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OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

IRVINE 

Gift  of 
THE  HONNOLD  LIBRARY 


NEVADA  FALLS,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 


Our  American 
Wonderlands 


ty 

George  Wharton  James 

Author  of 

The  Grand  Canyonof  Arizona,  The  Wonders  of 
the  ColoradoDesert,"Etc^tc. 


IllustrateJ  from  Photographs 


Ch.ica.go 

A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co. 

I  9  20 


Copyright 

Edith  E.  Farnsworth 

1915 


Published  November,  1915 


W.  f.  MALL  PRINTING  COMPANY,  CHICA8O 


FOREWORD 

Few  Americans  know  their  own  land  even  in  a  cursory 
way.  The  Alps  are  not  to  be  known  by  railway  travelers, 
nor  can  the  Sierras  be  studied  "  from  a  car-window." 
With  its  two  thousand  years  or  more  of  culture  and  mate- 
rial progress  there  are  many  parts  of  Europe  that  can 
be  seen  only  by  those  who  are  willing  to  leave  the  beaten 
tracks.  Many  of  the  trails  of  the  United  States  are  still 
fresh  and  newly-trodden,  yet  the  wonders  and  marvels 
they  reach  are  far  beyond  what  the  Old  World  has  to 
offer.  In  everything,  save  the  products  of  man's  industry, 
genius,  and  energy,  this  country  affords  far  more  to  see 
than  does  Europe.  Our  "Wonderlands"  are  more  start- 
ling, more  varied,  more  alluring,  more  attractive. 

Hence,  while  the  war  now  raging  between  the  great  civil- 
ized nations  of  Europe  is  to  be  deplored,  it  will  serve  one 
good  purpose,  at  least,  if  it  leads  Americans  to  a  keener, 
truer  patriotism,  manifested  in  a  desire  to  see  and  better 
know  their  own  country.  He  is  no  true  American — from 
my  standpoint — who  will  seize  every  opportunity  to  cross 
the  Atlantic  before  he  has  crossed  the  prairies,  the  Rockies, 
the  sage-brush  deserts,  and  the  Sierras  of  his  own  land. 
Once  let  Americans  know  and  exalt  the  glories  of  Amer- 
ican scenery  as  they  do  those  of  European  scenery,  and 
the  United  States  will  begin  to  take  its  proper  and  appointed 
place  among  the  countries  of  the  world  as  the  possessor 
of  many  gifts  and  most  wonderful  allurements. 


FOREWORD 

In  the  following  pages  I  have  sought,  briefly  and  vividly, 
without  entering  into  too  much  detail,  to  give  the  reader 
living  glimpses  of  what  America  offers  of  antiquarian, 
scenic,  geologic,  and  ethnologic  interest.  The  cliff  dwell- 
ings of  Colorado  and  Arizona  are  just  as  fascinating  as  the 
castles  of  the  Rhine,  when  one  comprehends  their  story; 
the  Hopis,  Havasupais,  Apaches,  and  Navahos  are  more 
picturesque  than  the  Swiss,  Irish,  Servian,  or  Russian  peas- 
ants, and  their  social  and  religious  ceremonies  far  more 
wonderful  and  fascinating;  the  Natural  Bridges  of  Utah, 
the  Mammoth  Cave  of  Kentucky,  the  Grand  Canyon,  the 
Petrified  Forest,  the  Canyon  de  Chelly,  Havasu  Canyon, 
the  Yosemite  Valley,  the  Yellowstone  and  a  hundred  other 
scenic  glories  of  our  Western  World  far  surpass  in  variety 
and  marvel  anything  Europe  has  to  offer. 

The  Colorado  and  Mohave  Deserts,  the  High  Sierras, 
the  Channel  Islands  of  California,  Lake  Tahoe  and  its 
glacial  surroundings,  are  equally  fascinating  as  their  coun- 
terparts in  the  Old  World,  and  the  glaciers  of  the  Alps  are 
not  more  wonderful  and  alluring  than  those  of  the  Glacier 
National  Park  of  Montana,  and  the  Cascade  and  other 
western  ranges. 

It  by  no  means  reflects  credit  on  our  citizens  that,  when 
they  are  questioned  in  Europe  "  I  suppose,  of  course,  you 
know  the  Yosemite,  the  Petrified  Forest,  the  Grand  Can- 
yon, the  Hopi  Villages,  Meteorite  Mountain,  the  Roose- 
velt Dam,  the  Yellowstone  Park,  Glacier  National  Park, 
the  Mammoth  Cave,  the  Great  Bridges  of  Utah,  the  Cliff 
Dwellings,  Canyon  de  Chelly,  etc.,  etc.,"  they  are  compelled 
to  answer,  "  No !  I  have  seen  none  of  them — or,  at  best, 
only  the  ones  that  are  reached  easiest  by  railroad." 


FOREWORD 

! 

To  excite  interest  in  these  wonderlands  of  our  own 
country  is  my  avowed  purpose,  with  the  deliberate  intent 
of  making  the  slogan  SEE  AMERICA  FIRST  a  potent  one  in 
active  and  daily  operation  in  the  minds  of  all  intelligent 
Americans.  To  increase  travel  in  these  directions  will  be 
my  reward,  for  thus  I  know  I  shall  add  largely  to  the 
measure  of  satisfaction  enjoyed  by  my  fellow-citizens  in 
the  increased  knowledge  of  their  own  great  and  wonderful 
land.  ^* 


Pasadena,  California, 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     The  Grand  Canyon  of  Arizona       ....         I 
II     Old  Taos  and  the  Flagellantes II 

III  The  Prehistoric  Cliff-  and  Cave-Dwellings  of 

the  Southwest 20 

IV  To  Betatakin  and  Kitsiel 38 

V     The  Cliff-Dwellings  of  the  Mesa  Verde     .     .      60 

VI     Old  Santa  Fe  and  the  Land  of  the  Delight 

Makers 67 

VII     Canyon  de  Chelly,  Del  Muerto  and  Monu- 
ment Canyons,  and  Their  Ruins    ....       76 

VIII     The  Navahos  and  Their  Remarkable  Fire 

Dance        87 

IX     The  Terraced  Houses  of  the  Rio  Grande      .      95 

X     By  the  Enchanted  Mesa  to  the  City  of  the 

Sky       101 

XI     Over  the  Painted  Desert  to  the  Hopi  Snake 

Dance        115 

XII     Over  the  Lava  Fields  to  the  "Seven  Cities  of 

Cibola" 136 

XIII  Meteorite  Mountain  and  Sunset  Crater     .     .     145 

XIV  Over  the  Apache  Trail  to  the  Roosevelt  Dam     150 

XV     The  Canyon  of  Cataracts,  and  the  Havasupai 

Indians 158 

XVI     The  Petrified  Forests  of  Arizona    ....     167 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVII     The  Lure  of  the  Arizona  Deserts     ....  172 

XVIII     The  Colossal  Natural  Bridges  of  Utah     .     .  182 

XIX     The  Garden   of   the   Gods   and   Monument 

Park 190 

XX     The  Old  Franciscan  Missions  of  New  Mex- 
ico, Arizona,  and  Texas 196 

XXI     The  Yellowstone  National  Park     ....  203 

XXII     On  the  Roof  of  the  Continent— The  Glacier 

National  Park,  Montana 214 

XXIII  Rainier  National  Park 221 

XXIV  Crater  Lake,  Oregon 227 

XXV     The  Yosemite  Valley .  234 

XXVI     The  Big  Trees  of  California 241 

XXVII     The  Lake  of  the  Sky— Lake  Tahoe    ...  249 

XXVIII     The  Channel  Islands  of  California       .     .     .  259 

XXIX     The  Natural  Bridge  of  Virginia     ....  265 

XXX     The  Mammoth  Cave  of  Kentucky       ...  272 

XXXI    Incomparable  Niagara 283 

Index .     .  293 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Nevada  Falls Frontispiece 

The  Grand  Canyon,  plateau  view 2 

Northwest  from  Hopi  Point 3 

Hermit  Camp 4 

Jacob's    Ladder 5 

Grand  Canyon  from  Hotel  El  Tovar 8 

Hermit's  Rest 9 

Taos  pueblo 12 

Old  Spanish  fort  near  Taos 12 

Church  procession  at  Taos 13 

Penitente  "morada"  (church)  with  crosses 13 

Taos  pueblo,  showing  "kiva" 14 

Ruins  of  old  church  at  Taos 15 

The  San  Francisco  Mountains 34 

Cliff-dwellings    near   Flagstaff 35 

Over  the  Arizona  desert  to  Betatakin  and  Kitsiel     ...  46 

The  Arizona  desert 46 

Cliff  city  of  Betatakin 47 

Another  view  of  Betatakin 47 

Two  views  of  Kitsiel 58 

Cliff-dwellings,  Mesa  Verde  National  Park 62 

The  Balcony  House 63 

Ruins    of    Tyuonyi 70 

Ruins    of    Puye 71 

Cave-dwelling  ruins  at  Puye 71 

Mummy  Cave 78 

The    White    House 79 

Canyon  de  Chelly  Monument 86 

Canyon  de  Chelly,  looking  east 87 

Navaho  blanket  weaving 88 

A  Navaho  summer  hogan 89 

Navaho   fire    dance 92 

Corral  in  which  fire  dance  is  held 92 

Navaho  types 93 

Indian  pueblo  of  Santa  Clara 98 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

San  Ildefonso 99 

Pueblo    funeral    procession 99 

Indian  pueblo  of  Laguna 104 

Street  in  the  pueblo  of  Acoma 104 

The  Enchanted   Mesa '.     .     .     .  105 

Drifted   sand,   Acoma 105 

The  Rock  of  Acoma 112 

Wall  of  defense 113 

Hopi  pueblo  of  Walpi 118 

Archway  in  Hopi  pueblo 118 

Hopi  pueblo  of  Oraibi 119 

Moki    snake    dance 119 

Antelope  priests  at  Walpi 122 

The  trail  to  Walpi 123 

In  the  "kiva" 128 

Lava  "necks,"  or  "heads" 138 

Lava    "neck" 138 

Plaza  in  the  pueblo  of  Zuni 139 

Zuni  Indians  making  bead  necklaces 139 

Meteorite  Mountain 146 

Mesa  overlooking  lava  fields 146 

Roosevelt  Dam 150 

On  the  road  to  Roosevelt  Dam 151 

On  the  road  to  Roosevelt  Dam     .     .     . 152 

Arizona  desert  near  Phoenix 153 

Near  Fish  Creek  Hill 153 

The    Havasu 160 

Mooney  Falls 161 

Bridal  Veil  Falls ' 162 

The  Wallapai  trail  to  Havasu  Canyon 163 

Pagatocoba's   hawa 163 

The  Petrified  Bridge       168 

The  Petrified  Forest       169 

The  Petrified  Forest       169 

The  desert  country 174 

The  desert  country 174 

The  San  Pedro  Valley 175 

Nonnezoshie  Natural  Bridge 184 

Edwin  Natural  Bridge \ 185 

Augusta   Natural   Bridge 185 

Indian  picture  writing 186 

Indian  picture  writing 186 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Rock  formations 187 

Rock  formations 187 

Gateway  to  the  Garden  of  the  Gods 190 

Cathedral  Spires 191 

In  Monument  Park 194 

In  Monument  Park 194 

San  Xavier  Mission 198 

San  Jose  de  Tumacacori  Mission 198 

Espada    Mission 199 

San  Jose  Mission 199 

The  Alamo 200 

Doorway,  San  Jose  Mission 201 

Dome  Geyser 204 

Punch  Bowl  Spring          204 

Pulpit  Terrace 205 

Jupiter    Terrace 205 

Tower  Falls 206 

Old  Faithful  Geyser 207 

Grotto  Geyser 210 

Cleopatra    Terrace 210 

Silver    Cord   Cascades 211 

Canyon  at  Tower  Falls 212 

Grand  Canyon  and  Great  Fall  of  the  Yellowstone     .     .     .  213 

Climbing   Blackfeet    Glacier 216 

Mount  Jackson 217 

Waterfall,  Glacier  National  Park 218 

Blackfeet  Glacier 218 

Iceberg   Lake 219 

Lake  McDermott 219 

Entrance  to  Rainier  National  Park 222 

"Snout"   of   Nisqually   Glacier 223 

Near  view  of  Nisqually's  "Snout" 224 

Mirror   Lake 225 

Crater  Lake 232 

Crater  Lake,  Wizard  Island 232 

Crater  Lake 233 

Entrance  to  Yosemite  Valley 234 

El  Capitan 235 

Overhanging   Rock *     .     .  236 

The  Yosemite  Falls 236 

Cathedral  Spires 236 

High  Sierra  in  Yosemite  National  Park 237 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Looking  down  into  the  Yosemite  from  the  rear  of  Half 

Dome 238 

North    Dome 239 

At  the  foot  of  a  Sequoia  gigantea 240 

The    Grizzly    Giant 241 

A  cluster  of  Sequoias  in  Muir  Woods     . 246 

Comparison  of  one  of  California's  big  trees  with  a  church  247 

Carnelian  Bay 250 

Cave  Rock 254 

Looking  north   from  Cave  Rock 255 

Rubicon  Point 255 

Coast    line    near   Avalon 260 

Arch  Rock 261 

The  Natural  Bridge  of  Virginia 266 

Icicle   formation 272 

Standing   Rocks 272 

Pillars    of    Elephantis 273 

Elephants'  Heads 276 

The  Throne 277 

Bottomless  Pit 277 

The  American  Fall 284 

The  Horseshoe  Fall 284 

Whirlpool  Rapids 285 

Prospect  Park  in  winter 285 


OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 


OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

CHAPTER  I 
THE  GRAND  CANYON  OF  ARIZONA 

AS  THERE  is  but  one  Niagara,  one  Yosemite,  one 
Lake  Tahoe,  one  Yellowstone,  so  there  is  but  one 
Grand  Canyon.  While  the  name  has  often  been  applied 
to  lesser  gorges,  it  is  a  sacrilege  that  should  not  be  tolerated 
as  an  act  of  lese  majesty  against  the  one  supreme  gorge  of  the 
known  world.  Supreme,  indeed,  it  is,  in  size — width,  depth, 
and  length — in  infinite  variety  of  sculptured  forms  and 
their  dimensions,  in  the  gamut  of  color  revealed,  in  the 
geological  strata  exposed,  in  the  problems  involved,  and 
in  the  vastness  of  the  gieat  river,  which,  working  through 
the  patient  ages,  has  been  the  chief  instrument  of  its  manu- 
facture, and  now  angrily,  sullenly,  noisily,  sometimes 
quietly,  at  others  thunderingly  and  blusteringly,  dashes  on 
its  way  to  the  far-away  open  desert,  and  later  to  the  open 
sea. 

There  are  writers  who  have  sought  to  compare  the 
Grand  Canyon  with  other  objects  of  natural  scenery;  but 
this  is  only  to  aid  the  imagination  of  those  who  yet  have 
the  pleasure  before  them  of  making  its  acquaintance.  You 
cannot  compare  things  of  such  differences.  John  Muir  once 
wrote  illuminatingly  on  this  subject.  He  said : 

It  is  impossible  to  conceive  what  the  Canyon  is,  or  what  im- 
pression it  makes,  from  the  descriptions  or  pictures,  however 


2  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

good.  Naturally  it  is  untellable  even  to  those  who  have  seen 
something  perhaps  a  little  like  it  on  a  small  scale  in  this  same 
plateau  region.  One's  most  extravagant  expectations  are  in- 
definitely surpassed,  though  one  expects  much  from  what  is 
said  of  it  as  "the  biggest  chasm  on  earth." 

So  big  is  it  that  all  other  big  things  —  Yosemite,  the  Yellow- 
stone, the  Pyramids,  Chicago  —  all  would  be  lost  if  tumbled 
into  it. 

Naturally  enough,  illustrations  as  to  size  are  sought  for 
among  other  canyons  like  or  unlike  it,  with  the  common  result 
of  worse  confounding  confusion.  The  prudent  keep  silent.  It 
was  once  said  that  the  "Grand  Canyon  could  put  a  dozen 
Yosemites  in  its  vest  pocket. 

The  justly  famous  Grand  Canyon  of  the  Yellowstone  is, 
like  that  of  the  Colorado,  gorgeously  colored  and  abruptly 
countersunk  in  a  plateau,  and  both  are  mainly  the  work  of 
water.  But  the  Colorado's  Canyon  is  more  than  a  thousand 
times  larger,  and  as  a  score  or  two  new  buildings  of  ordinary 
size  would  not  change  appreciably  the  general  view  of  a  great 
city,  so  hundreds  of  Yellowstones  might  be  crowded  in  the 
sides  of  the  Colorado  Canyon  without  noticeably  augmenting 
its  size  or  the  richness  of  its  sculpture.  But  it  is  not  true  that 
the  great  Yosemite  rocks  would  be  thus  lost  or  hidden.  Noth- 
ing of  their  kind  in  the  world,  so  far  as  I  know,  rivals  El  Cap- 
itan  and  Tissiack  (Half  Dome),  much  less  dwarfs  or  in  any 
way  belittles  them.  None  of  the  sandstone  or  limestone  preci- 
pices of  the  Canyon  that  I  have  seen  or  heard  of  approaches 
in  smooth,  flawless  strength  and  grandeur  the  granite  face  of 
El  Capitan  or  the  Tenaya  side  of  Cloud's  Rest.  These  colossal 
cliffs,  types  of  permanence,  are  about  three  thousand  and  six 
hundred  feet  high;  those  of  the  Canyon  that  are  sheer  are 
about  half  as  high,  and  are  types  of  fleeting  change;  while 
glorious-domed  Tissiack,  noblest  of  mountain  buildings,  far 
from  being  overshadowed  or  lost  in  this  rosy,  spring  canyon 
company,  would  draw  every  eye,  and,  in  serene  majesty, 
"aboon  them  a',"  she  would  take  her  place — castle,  temple, 
palace,  or  tower. 

Every  feature  of  nature's  big  face  is  beautiful — height,  hol- 
low, wrinkle,  furrow,  and  line — and  this  is  the  main  master 


Copyright  by  Fred  Harvey 

THE  GRAND  CANYON 

PLATEAU  VIEW  THIRTEEN  HUNDRED  FEET  ABOVE  THE  COLORADO 


GRAND  CANYON  OF  ARIZONA  3 

furrow  of  its  kind  on  our  continent,  incomparably  greater  and 
more  impressive  than  any  other  yet  discovered,  or  likely  to  be 
discovered,  now  that  all  the  great  rivers  have  been  traced  to 
their  heads.* 

There  are  several  features  of  the  canyon  that  immedi- 
ately force  themelves  upon  the  attention  of  the  observer. 
The  first  is  the  stupendous  vastness  of  the  chasm  into  which 
one  gazes.  Few  people  have  any  standard  with  which  to 
compare  it.  The  ordinary  canyons,  or  ravines,  into  which 
one  may  have  gazed  are  so  puny  and  insignificant  as  not 
to  count  in  the  tremendous  impression  now  produced.  As 
one  reads  the  account  of  emotions  experienced  in  gazing 
into  other  depths — as,  for  instance,  Porte  Crayon's  descrip- 
tion of  the  thrilling  sensations  experienced  by  his  sisters  at 
the  Natural  Bridge  of  Virginia,  given  in  Chapter  xxix, 
one  realizes  how  utterly  incompetent  words  are  to  suggest 
what  one  feels  in  the  presence  of  this  really  sublime  abyss. 
All  the  superlatives  of  the  language  have  been  exhausted 
on  objects  so  insignificant  as  to  be  unobservable  were  they 
alongside  of  this  great  Canyon. 

Then,  too,  the  vastness  of  this  deep  inferno  is  entirely 
different  from  the  vastness  of  a  valley  that  one  gazes  into 
from  a  mountain  height.  The  actual  depth  may  be  as  great 
in  the  latter  case  as  the  five  thousand  feet  descent  into  the 
Canyon,  but  the  valley  is  not  shut  in,  is  not  a  wild  desolation 
of  highly  colored  and  picturesquely  sculptured  rocks.  The 
two  depths  are  entirely  alike.  Hence  analysis  shows  that 
the  effect  of  vast  depth  of  wide  extent  is  enhanced  by  the 
fact  of  the  uniqueness  of  the  scene.  It  is  different  in  this 

*  The    Grand    Canyon    of    the    Colorado,    in    Century    Magazine, 
Nov.,  1902. 


4  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

regard  from  anything  ever  seen,  and  being  on  so  stupendous 
a  scale  it  overpowers,  impresses,  dominates  to  the  full 
capacity  of  the  human  mind. 

Another  striking  feature  is  the  bizarre  and  unusual  sculp- 
turing and  fashioning  that  the  walls  and  rocks  of  the  canyon 
have  assumed.  We  think  of  the  Garden  of  the  Gods,  Monu- 
ment Park,  the  Bad  Lands,  and  the  wonderful  Land  of  the 
Standing  Rocks,  as  marvels  of  Nature's  unique  sculpturing, 
yet  they  are  insignificant  when  compared  with  the  towers, 
temples,  minarets,  domes,  walls,  buttresses,  gargoyles,  and 
other  fantastic  and  strange  creations  of  the  Canyon.  As  an 
unknown  writer  has  graphically  said: 

Hundreds  of  these  mighty  structures,  miles  in  length  and 
thousands  of  feet  in  height,  rear  their  majestic  forms  out  of  the 
abyss,  displaying  their  richly  molded  plinths  and  friezes,  thrust- 
ing out  their  gables,  wing  walls,  buttresses,  and  pilasters,  and 
recessed  with  alcoves  and  panels. 

Nowhere  in  the  world  is  such  wild,  grand,  marvelous, 
unusual  architecture  as  here,  and  on  such  a  sublime  scale 
as  to  dwarf  into  insignificance  man's  most  ambitious 
attempts,  as  St.  Peter's,  Cologne,  Milan,  St.  Paul's,  St. 
Sophia,  the  Kremlin,  and  the  like.  Nor  should  one  think 
that  there  is  no  harmony  in  this  architecture.  Each  stratum 
of  rock  has  its  own  characteristic  forms  of  erosion,  and 
these  adapt  themselves  remarkably  as  architectural  details 
of  marvelous  quality  to  the  vast  structures  which  corrosion 
and  erosion  have  formed. 

The  colors,  too,  are  so  different  from  what  one  has  ever 
before  experienced.  Here  are  no  soft,  tender,  gentle,  pas- 
toral landscapes,  of  refined  greens  and  alluring  tones  of 
brown  and  yellow.  No,  indeed !  Flaming  reds,  chocolates, 


Copyright  by  Fred  Harvey 


HERMIT  CAMP 

THIRTY-FIVE     HUNDRED    FEET    BELOW    THE    RIM 


Copyright  by  Fred  Harvey 


JACOB'S  LADDER 

ON  BRIGHT  ANGEL  TRAIL 


GRAND  CANYON  OF  ARIZONA  5 

carmines,  crimsons,  resplendent  yellows,  oranges,  saffrons; 
dazzling  blues,  greens,  and  creams;  glaring  patches  and 
streaks  of  white;  and  thunderous  splotches  of  black,  make 
up  this  scene.  Here  Nature  was  in  her  most  riotous  mood, 
and  spilled  colors  broadcast  from  her  paint  pots  with  lavish 
hands.  Bizarre,  grotesque,  startling,  at  first  sight,  study 
and  knowledge  are  required  to  understand  and  enjoy  them. 
The  blaze  and  glory  of  them  are  absolutely  startling.  Ten 
thousand  rainbows  of  solid  rock  are  broken  up  and  tossed 
higgledy-piggledy  into  this  chasm.  Walls  are  made  of  the 
same  materials,  a  rioting  chaos  of  color — this  is  what  it 
seems  at  first  sight.  The  eye  cannot  focalize  anything; 
the  vastness  confuses;  the  colors  dazzle;  the  varied  forms 
of  the  rocky  masses  bewilder. 

Were  this  effect  to  persist,  to  continue  indefinitely,  the 
Grand  Canyon  would  not  please;  it  would  repel  by  its  first 
impressions.  But  in  spite  of  this  striking  forcefulness,  this 
bizarre  uniqueness,  this  grotesque  personality,  there  is 
something  that  attracts,  that  demands  further  investigation, 
that  forbids  the  eyes  to  turn  away.  Then,  slowly  at  first, 
soon  more  rapidly,  the  forms  of  the  walls  and  domes,  the 
towers  and  colonnades,  assume  distinct  reality,  individual 
personality.  The  colors  resolve  themselves  into  harmoni- 
ous relationship,  the  chaos  disappears  and  a  very  definite, 
organized  cosmos  takes  its  place.  An  hour,  two  hours, 
three,  four,  pass,  and  the  visitor  is  still  gazing,  now  drink- 
ing in  eagerly  an  ever-varying  panorama  of  form  and 
color.  The  march  of  the  sun  makes  constant  change;  the 
clouds  float  up  from  the  everywhere  into  the  here;  atmos- 
pheric and  electric  effects  are  produced  that  tone  down, 
soften,  change,  transform  the  scenes  below,  and  every 


6  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

change  is  more  wonderful  and  fascinating  than  the  one 
that  preceded  it. 

Nothing  that  I  know  of  in  the  thousands  of  the  pages 
that  have  been  written  on  the  Grand  Canyon  so  fully  brings 
out  these  facts  as  the  following  written  by  Major  Clarence 
E.  Button,  the  poet-scientist  of  the  West.  He  says: 

The  Grand  Canyon  of  the  Colorado  is  a  great  innovation  in 
modern  ideas  of  scenery,  and  in  our  conceptions  of  the  gran- 
deur, beauty,  and  power  of  Nature,  as  with  all  great  innova- 
tions, it  is  not  to  be  comprehended  in  a  day  or  a  week,  nor  even 
in  a  month.  It  must  be  dwelt  upon  and  studied,  and  the  study 
must  comprise  the  slow  acquisition  of  the  meaning  and  spirit  of 
that  marvelous  scenery  which  characterizes  the  Plateau  Coun- 
try, and  of  which  the  great  chasm  is  the  superlative  manifesta- 
tion. The  study  and  slow  mastery  of  the  influences  of  that  class 
of  scenery  and  its  full  appreciation  is  a  special  culture,  requiring 
time,  patience,  and  long  familiarity  for  its  consummation. 

The  lover  of  Nature,  whose  perceptions  have  been  trained  in 
the  Alps,  in  Italy,  Germany,  or  New  England,  in  the  Appa- 
lachians or  Cordilleras,  in  Scotland  or  Colorado,  would  enter 
this  strange  region  with  a  shock,  and  dwell  there  for  a  time 
with  a  sense  of  oppression,  and  perhaps  with  horror.  Whatso- 
ever things  he  had  learned  to  regard  as  beautiful  and  noble  he 
would  seldom  or  never  see,  and  whatsoever  he  might  see  would 
appear  to  him  as  anything  but  beautiful  and  noble.  Whatso- 
ever might  be  bold  and  striking  would  at  first  seem  only  gro- 
tesque. The  colors  would  be  the  very  ones  he  had  learned  to 
shun  as  tawdry  and  bizarre.  The  tones  and  shades,  modest 
and  tender,  subdued,  yet  rich,  in  which  his  fancy  had  always 
taken  especial  delight,  would  be  the  ones  which  are  conspicu- 
ously absent. 

But  time  would  bring  a  gradual  change.  Some  day  he  would 
suddenly  become  conscious  that  outlines  which  at  first  seemed 
harsh  and  trivial  have  grace  and  meaning;  that  forms  which 
seemed  grotesque  are  full  of  dignity;  that  magnitudes  which 
had  added  enormity  to  coarseness  have  become  replete  with 
strength  and  even  majesty;  that  colors  which  had  been 


GRAND  CANYON  OF  ARIZONA  7 

esteemed  unrefined,  immodest,  and  glaring  are  as  expressive, 
tender,  changeful,  and  capacious  of  effects  as  any  others.  Great 
innovations,  whether  in  art  or  literature,  in  science  or  in 
Nature,  seldom  take  the  world  by  storm.  They  must  be  under- 
stood before  they  can  be  estimated,  and  must  be  cultivated 
before  they  can  be  understood.* 

Major  J.  W.  Powell  has  this  to  say  of  the  Grand  Can- 
yon, which  presents  another  feature  of  its  diverse  attrac- 
tiveness : 

But  form  and  color  do  not  exhaust  all  the  divine  qualities 
of  the  Grand  Canyon.  It  is  the  land  of  music.  The  river 
thunders  in  perpetual  roar,  swelling  in  floods  of  music  when 
the  storm  gods  play  upon  the  rocks,  and  fading  away  in  soft 
and  low  murmurs  when  the  infinite  blue  of  heaven  is  unveiled. 
With  the  melody  of  the  great  tide  rising  and  falling,  swelling 
and  vanishing  forever,  other  melodies  are  heard  in  the  gorges 
of  the  lateral  canyons,  while  the  waters  plunge  in  the  rapids 
among  the  rocks  or  leap  in  great  cataracts.  Thus  the  Grand 
Canyon  is  a  land  of  song.  Mountains  of  music  swell  in  the 
rivers,  hills  of  music  billow  in  the  creeks,  and  meadows  of 
music  murmur  in  the  rills  that  ripple  over  the  rocks.  Alto- 
gether it  is  a  symphony  of  multitudinous  melodies.  All  this  is 
the  music  of  waters.  The  adamant  foundations  of  the  earth 
have  been  wrought  into  a  sublime  harp  upon  which  the  clouds 
of  heaven  play  with  mighty  tempests  or  with  gentle  showers.f 


There  is  no  difficulty  in  reaching  the  Grand  Canyon 
adays.  The  Santa  Fe  main  line  crosses  Arizona,  and  at 
Williams  one  changes  to  the  branch,  which,  in  sixty-three 
miles,  deposits  you  at  El  Tovar,  the  fine  Fred  Harvey  hotel 
on  the  "rim."  At  the  Grand  Canyon  one  never  speaks  of 
the  "edge;"  it  is  always  the  "rim,"  and  the  south  rim  is 

*  Tertiary  History  of  the  Grand  Canyon  District,  Government  Print- 
ing Office,  Washington,  1882. 

t  The  Scientific  Explorer,  in  the  Grand  Canyon  of  Arizona,  Santa 
Fe  Passenger  Dept.,  1906, 


8  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

the  first  portion  to  be  made  accessible  by  rail.  But  do 
not  imagine  you  can  see  the  Grand  Canyon  by  rail.  No! 
Nature  cannot  be  treated  that  way,  as  yet,  in  her  more 
magnificent  and  stupendous  retreats.  Of  course,  you  can 
get  one  taste,  one  touch,  one  glimpse,  one  feel,  and  to  some 
people  that  is  enough.  But  if  you  really  want  to  see  it  and 
know  something  about  it,  you  must  at  least  ride  on  its 
rim  for  a  few  miles,  in  each  direction  from  El  Tovar,  and 
then  descend  one  of  the  well-constructed  trails  down  to  the 
river;  and,  better  still,  steal  the  time  to  go  down  one  trail, 
ride  in  the  Canyon's  heart  to  another,  camping  out  by  the 
side  of  the  rapids  of  the  ever-roaring  river,  or  on  the 
level  stretches  of  one  of  the  plateaus,  then  cross  the  river 
to  the  other  side,  ascend  to  the  great  Kaibab  Plateau  and 
ride  through  its  superb  pine  forest  to  Point  Sublime,  the 
finest  point  in  the  whole  Canyon  system  on  the  north,  rim, 
ere  you  return.  It  is  not  a  hard  trip  to  one  used  to  horse- 
back riding  and  camping  out,  but  of  course  the  "de  luxe" 
traveler  had  better  remain  in  the  "flowery  beds  of  ease" 
provided  by  Fred  Harvey  in  connection  with  El  Tovar. 

The  Grand  Canyon  is  not  a  mere  object  of  scenery;  it 
is  a  vast  drainage  system,  covering  thousands  of  square 
miles  of  territory,  and  embracing  within  its  natural  area 
large  parts  of  the  states  of  Wyoming,  Utah,  Colorado, 
Nevada,  Arizona,  California,  and  even  New  Mexico.  Few, 
even  of  the  most  intelligent  of  its  casual  visitors,  ever  get 
it  through  their  heads  that  if  all  its  tributary  canyons  were 
placed  in  a  straight  line  they  would  come  within  less  than 
5,000  miles  of  encircling  the  globe.  For  there  are  nearly 
3,000  miles  of  canyon  in  the  upper  reaches  of  the  Colo- 
rado, and  its  great  tributaries,  or  forks,  the  Grand  and  the 


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GRAND  CANYON  OF  ARIZONA  9 

Green,  ere  the  two  hundred  and  seventeen-mile  stretch,  called 
in  distinctiveness  The  Grand  Canyon,  is  reached.  And 
into  almost  every  mile  of  this  3,000  miles,  on  each  side, 
other  canyons  are  lined,  seamed,  or  troughed,  in  endless 
variety  and  never-ceasing  sublimity.  Canyon  of  Desola- 
tion, Lodore,  Split  Mountain,  Flaming  Gorge,  Glen,  Marble, 
are  the  names  of  a  few  of  the  principal  ones,  before  reach- 
ing the  entering  canyon  of  the  Little  Colorado,  which 
denotes  the  commencement  of  the  Grand  Canyon.  This  is 
some  fifty  or  sixty  miles  east  of  El  Tovar,  and  makes  a 
great  wagon  and  horseback  ride  for  the  adventurous  who 
do  not  call  the  "pleasures"  of  camping  out  a  "hardship." 

While  others  had  seen  portions  of  the  Grand  Canyon 
and  its  tributaries,  it  was  left  for  that  "one-armed  hero  of 
Gettysburg,"  Major  John  Wesley  Powell,  first  to  fully 
describe  its  wonders.  In  1869,  1870,  and  1871  he  and  a 
band  of  large-souled  adventurers  set  forth  to  explore  its 
hidden  mysteries  and  ride  its  waters  from  Green  River, 
Wyoming,  down  to  the  Gulf;  or,  at  least,  to  the  Colorado 
Desert.  The  records  of  this  trip  were  first  given  to  the 
world  in  Scribner's  Magazine,  and  later  in  government 
reports  and  books,  and  Dellenbaugh's  Romance  of  the  Colo- 
rado  River.  The  story  is  thrilling  in  the  extreme,  and 
should  form  the  theme  of  a  lesson  in  American  history, 
geography,  geology,  exploration,  and  heroism  for  every 
child  in  our  schools — North,  South,  East,  and  West. 

In  my  own  two  books,  In  and  Around  the  Grand  Canyon, 
and  The  Grand  Canyon  of  Arizona,  I  have  done  my  best 
to  make  its  wonders,  allurements,  and  rare  marvels  known. 
Everybody  that  has  ever  seen  it  knows  it  cannot  be  de- 
scribed, and  then  spends  page  after  page  in  demonstrating 


10  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

that  it  cannot.  The  pen  of  a  Ruskin,  Carlyle,  Dante, 
Goethe,  Milton,  or  Shakspere  would  here  fail,  and  the 
canvas  of  a  Rembrandt,  a  Velasquez,  a  Turner,  merely 
convey  a  faint  impression  of  its  sublimity  and  majesty  in 
architecture  and  color.  Hence  there  is  but  one  thing  left 
for  the  sensible  American  to  do  —  that  is  to  visit  it.  And 
when  you  do,  be  sure  to  plan  for  plenty  of  time.  Don't 
be  in  a  hurry.  It  took  God  and  his  army  of  natural  forces 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  years  to  make  it.  Surely  you 
can  spend  a  few  days  to  look  at  it  —  wandering  on  its  rim, 
peering  into  its  depths,  riding  into  them  —  and  thus  begin 
to  comprehend  some  of  the  vast  workings  of  the  Almighty 
Mind. 


CHAPTER  II 

OLD  TAGS  AND  THE  FLAGELLANTES 

A3.E  you  traveling  to  the  Pacific  Coast  from  the 
Middle  West,  North,  or  East  ?  Why  not  go  leisurely 
and  see  all  you  can  on  the  way?  There  are  a  score,  or 
more,  of  places  that  will  wonderfully  pay  you,  and  none 
more  so  than  Taos  (not  Tay-os,  Teh-os,  Tay-oos,  or 
Teh-us,  but,  as  if  it  rhymed  with  house,  say  Towse,  in  one 
syllable),  redolent  of  memories  of  Indians,  of  the  great 
Pueblo  Rebellion  of  1680,  of  the  uprising  of  Mexicans  and 
Indians  after  the  country  was  annexed  by  the  United 
States,  when  Governor  Bent  was  murdered,  of  Kit  Carson 
and  hosts  of  other  interesting  events  and  personalities. 

It  is  an  old  Indian  pueblo  in  New  Mexico,  the  northern- 
most of  all  the  "pueblos,"  or  villages,  of  the  Indians  of 
the  Rio  Grande,  its  several-storied,  high-terraced  houses 
familiar  to  many  travelers.  Yet  most  Indian  villages  are 
"  close  corporations,"  conducted  with  a  secrecy  and  resent- 
ment of  intrusion  that  Wall  Street  has  never  surpassed. 

But  it  is  not  of  the  Indians  and  their  religious  and  social 
life,  however  mysterious  and  fascinating,  that  this  chapter 
is  to  deal.  Three  miles  from  the  Indian  village  is  the  later- 
founded  Spanish  or  Mexican  town,  of  San  Fernando  de 
Taos.  This  was  the  home  of  Governor  Bent,  the  first 
United  States  governor  of  New  Mexico.  Here  lived  Chris- 
topher Carson,  the  redoubtable  Kit,  guide  and  scout  for 

11 


12  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

the  pathfinder  Fremont,  and  fully  as  great  a  man  in  his 
way  as  was  the  more  refined  and  cultured  Fremont  in  his. 
Here  stood  formerly  one  of  the  historic  churches  of  New 
Mexico,  now  gone,  however,  in  the  rage  for  a  modernism 
that  has  no  appreciation  for  the  picturesqueness  of  the  old. 
Here,  too,  is  located  today  a  modern  school  of  American 
painters  —  Phillips,  Sharp,  and  the  rest  —  seeking  to  catch 
and  put  on  canvas  before  it  is  too  late  the  wonderful  life 
of  the  real,  untouched,  superstitious,  natural  Indian  in  his 
primitive  and  gloriously  picturesque  simplicity. 

And,  more  fascinating  than  all,  it  is  the  home,  the  natural 
centre,  of  that  strange  band  of  religionists  known  as  "  The 
Penitent  Brothers."  Even  so  learned  and  well-informed 
an  authority  as  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  in  the  last 
edition  but  one,  as  good  as  asserted  that  the  Penitentes,  or 
Flagellantes,  were  practically  extinct;  that  the  last  proces- 
sion of  Flagellantes  marched  in  1820  in  Lisbon. 

And  I  have  had  several  interesting  experiences  as  the 
result  of  my  contradiction  of  this  high  authority,  when, 
lecturing  in  the  East,  I  asserted  that  I  had  been  present 
at  Penitente  processions,  flagellations,  and  crucifixions  in 
the  boundaries  of  the  United  States  within  the  past  twenty- 
five  years. 

It  was  Charles  F.  Lummis,  in  his  The  Land  of  Poco 
Tiempo,  who  first  wrote  and  illustrated  these  modern  and 
American  Penitentes.  At  the  peril  of  his  life,  or  at  least  at 
the  point  of  a  revolver,  he  secured  photographs  that  materi- 
ally enhanced  the  value  of  his  descriptions,  and  I  myself 
have  made  photographs  of  the  devotees,  with  half  a  dozen 
shotguns  leveled  in  my  direction,  held  in  the  hands  of  angry 
Mexicans,  who  were  only  prevented  from  firing,  I  imagine, 


TAGS  PUEBLO,  NEW  MEXICO 


OLD  SPANISH  FORT  NEAR  TAOS 


Courtesy  of  Denver  &•  Rio  Grande  R.  R. 

CHURCH  PROCESSION  AT  TAGS 


Copyright  by  E.  E.  Wentu'orth  Layton 

PENITENTE  "  MORADA "  (CHURCH)  WITH  CROSSES 


OLD  TAOS  AND  THE  FLAGELLANTES         13 

by  the  ominous  glint  in  the  eyes  of  a  fearless  deputy  sheriff 
who  was  my  guide  (and  comfort  as  well)  on  the  occasion. 

The  Penitentes  of  our  American  Southwest  —  as  com- 
monly they  are  called  —  are  the  natural  or  illegitimate 
descendants  of  the  Third  Order  of  St.  Francis.  This  order 
was  founded  to  give  to  laymen  the  religious  advantages  of 
the  saint's  rule,  when  circumstances  rendered  it  impossible 
or  inadvisable  for  them  to  accept  the  rigid  monastic  life. 
After  the  wave  of  self-flagellation  swept  over  Europe  as 
the  result  of  the  preaching  and  example  of  Cardinal  Peter 
Damian,  and  St.  Anthony  of  Padua,  many  fraternities  intro- 
duced the  practice  privately  among  their  membership. 
Then,  in  1260,  owing  to  the  incitations  of  Ramer,  a  monk 
of  Perugia,  great  numbers  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  city, 
noble  and  ignoble,  old  and  young,  traversed  the  streets, 
carrying  in  their  hands  leathern  thongs,  with  which  "they 
drew  forth  blood  from  their  tortured  bodies  amid  sighs 
and  tears,  singing  at  the  same  time  penitential  psalms,  and 
entreating  the  compassion  of  the  Deity." 

Then  the  custom  spread  by  the  example  and  teaching 
of  peripatetic  bands  of  devotees.  At  first  they  seemed  to 
do  considerable  good  in  checking  the  open  vice  and  wicked- 
ness of  the  people,  but,  in  time,  their  exhibitions  awakened 
the  disgust  of  the  better  class  of  the  people.  Finally  their 
flagellations  grew  so  obnoxious  to  the  moral  sense  of  the 
church  and  the  outside  world  that,  in  1439,  the  occupant 
of  the  papal  chair,  Pope  Clement  vi,  counselled  and  finally 
commanded  that  the  order  be  suppressed. 

Under  the  papacy  of  Gregory  xi  the  Holy  Inquisition 
hunted  out  those  who  still  continued  the  practice,  and  the 
sect  was  believed  to  have  disappeared  entirely.  Yet  in  1414 


14  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

it  was  revived  openly  by  Conrad  Schmidt,  and  though  he 
and  his  principal  followers  were  arrested  and  executed,  the 
spirit  of  the  order,  if  not  its  practices,  still  prevailed.  Again, 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  it  broke  out  in  the  south  of  France, 
and  Henry  in  established  a  whipping  brotherhood  in  Paris, 
and  himself  took  an  important  part  in  the  processions. 
These  fraternities  were  suppressed  by  Henry  iv,  but 
nobody  supposes  for  a  moment  that  the  practice  was  not 
continued,  privately  in  the  main,  both  in  the  south  of 
France  and  in  Italy  and  Spain.  Yet,  as  far  as  is  known, 
the  last  public  procession  was  that  already  referred  to  as 
having  taken  place  at  Lisbon  in  1820. 

How  the  movement  reached  the  Spanish  settlements  of 
Nueva  Mexico,  and  took  possession  of  the  hearts  and  lives 
of  the  dwellers  of  the  Southwest,  would  prove  an  interest- 
ing and  fascinating  theme  for  historical  research.  Conjecture 
alone,  now,  must  fill  up  the  gap,  with  the  mere  supposition 
that  some  devout  and  zealous  colonists,  coming  from  the  old 
world  of  Spain,  or  the  new  world  of  Mexico,  into  the 
northern  land  of  New  Mexico  and  Arizona,  possessed  by 
Coronado,  Ofiate,  and  the  later  conquerors,  brought  the 
ritual  of  the  brotherhood  with  them,  with  all  its  repulsive 
ceremonies  of  whippings,  cross-bearing,  and  crucifixion. 

Certain  it  is,  that  when  the  United  States  forces,  under 
General  Stephen  W.  Kearny,  took  possession  of  this  land, 
it  was  not  long  before  whispers  began  to  be  heard  of  the 
strange  doings  of  these  bands  of  superstitious  fanatics. 
When  the  facts  were  known  and  brought  to  the  attention 
of  the  Archbishop  at  Santa  Fe,  he  instructed  the  priests  of 
his  district  to  suppress  the  order,  acting  under  the  sanction 
of  the  early  papal  bull.  But,  inexplicable  though  it  may 


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c/: 


OLD  T/1OS  AND  THE  FLAGELLANTES         15 

seem,  the  cruel  self-scourgings  and  the  often  fatal  cruci- 
fixions of  the  brotherhood  had  taken  such  strong  hold  upon 
their  religious  instinct,  native  superstition,  or  fanaticism, 
that  when  the  local  priests  called  upon  them,  by  authority 
of  the  head  of  the  church,  to  desist  from  their  practices, 
they  positively  refused.  Steadily  they  continued  their 
whippings  and  scourgings,  their  penances  and  crucifixions, 
in  spite  of  all  persuasions,  commands,  and  final  interdictions. 
Even  when  the  Archbishop  threatened  to  cast  them  out  of 
the  church  they  stolidly  replied :  "  We  do  not  care,  we  are 
Penitentes,"  as  if  that  settled  the  question.  To  be  a  Peni- 
tente  was  far  more  satisfactory  than  to  be  a  good  Catholic. 
In  that  attitude  they  stand  today.  There  is  no  longer 
open  and  definite  enmity  between  themselves  and  the  priests, 
but  there  is  a  tacit  understanding  that  nothing  is  to  be  said 
on  the  subject  on  either  side.  Hence  at  Taos,  and  a  score 
or  two  other  Mexican  settlements  in  the  region  I  have 
mentioned,  the  Penitentes  still  hold  full  sway.  The  chief 
tenet  of  the  Brotherhood  seems  to  be  a  very  literal  inter- 
pretation of  the  words  of  the  apostle: 

But  rejoice,  inasmuch  as  ye  are  partakers  of  Christ's  suffer- 
ings ;  that,  when  His  glory  shall  be  revealed,  ye  may  be  glad 
also  with  exceeding  joy.  I  Pet.  4:  13. 

It  was  at  Raton,  about  twenty-nine  years  ago,  that  I  had 
my  first  experience  with  this  wonderful  fanaticism  known 
as  "  Penitentes."  I  had  been  wandering  over  the  surround- 
ing country  with  an  interesting  character  such  as  one 
occasionally  meets  on  the  frontier  —  who  knows  everybody 
and  whom  everybody  knows,  and  who  goes  where  many 
men  dare  not  go,  and  does  naturally  some  things  that  most 
men  never  think  of  doing.  So  when  he  came  to  me  one 


16  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

morning  with  the  information  that  it  was  Easter  time,  and 
the  Penitente  Brothers  would  be  engaged  in  their  strange 
ceremonials,  it  did  not  take  us  long  to  secure  horses  and 
ride  down  the  canyon  three  or  four  miles  south  of  town, 
and  we  were  soon  perched  upon  a  hillside  where  we  could 
look  down  upon  the  little  Mexican  jacal  from  which  the 
penetrating  tones  of  a  flute  or  flageolet  wailed  forth  most 
dolorous  notes.  Following  the  flute  we  heard  the  singing 
of  one  or  two  hymns  in  rude,  uncultivated  voices  of  men. 

In  a  short  time  several  of  the  Penitente  Brothers  emerged. 
Each  votary  had  a  mask  or  hood  over  his  head  which  com- 
pletely concealed  his  face,  excluding  all  possibility  of  recog- 
nition, even  by  his  most  intimate  friends.  The  upper  part 
of  the  body  was  entirely  nude,  the  feet  were  bare,  and  the 
only  garment  worn  was  a  pair  of  cotton  drawers.  Each 
man  held  in  his  hand  a  scourge  —  a  three-foot-long  whip, 
with  a  flaplike  end,  having  the  shape  and  appearance  of  a 
flexible  spoon.  The  whip  was  made  of  yucca  and  cactus, 
and  the  spoon-shaped  end  was  a  large  leaf  of  the  prickly 
pear,  one  of  the  most  thorny  of  the  cruel  cactuses  of  the 
Southwest.  The  whole  scourge  was  filled  with  the  spines 
of  cactuses,  and  no  sooner  did  the  procession  form  and 
move  forward,  each  hooded  figure  guided  by  a  friend,  than, 
to  our  utter  amazement  and  horror,  these  cruel  scourges 
were  whirled  over  the  shoulders  and  brought  down  with 
resounding  "  thwacks  "  upon  the  bare  backs  of  those  relig- 
ious fanatics. 

Every  third  step  the  back  was  beaten,  and  now  and  again 
we  could  hear  the  half -smothered  shriek  of  the  self-whipper 
as  the  piercing  thorns  penetrated  the  flesh.  It  was  not  long 
before  blood  trickled  down  their  backs;  but  nothing 


OLD  TAOS  AND  THE  FLAGELLANTES         17 

daunted  their  fanatic  fury.  On  they  marched,  led  by  the 
fifer  playing  a  doleful  air,  accompanied  by  the  equally 
dolorous  singing  of  the  Hermano  Mayor,  or  Principal 
Brother. 

Several  hundred  yards  up  the  canyon  a  large  cross  was 
standing  and  the  whipping  continued  each  third  step  until 
this  cross  was  reached.  Then  the  Flagellants  threw  them- 
selves face  downwards,  prostrate  before  the  cross,  and  lay 
there  for  some  time,  while  prayers  were  offered  by  the 
Hermano  Mayor. 

That  afternoon  another  procession  formed  with  five  of 
the  brothers  whipping  themselves.  This  time  several  women 
followed  in  the  procession.  It  was  sickening  to  hear  the 
swish  of  those  fearful  cactus  whips.  One  of  the  brothers, 
however,  managed  to  twist  and  turn  his  body  in  such  a 
way  as  to  dodge  the  prickly  whip,  and  a  spectator  was 
heard  to  say,  "  He  is  dodging.  He  is  not  whipping  his 
sins  out,"  but  the  cowardly  member  of  the  fraternity  was 
speedily  punished,  for  one  of  the  guides  seized  the  whip 
and  belabored  the  poor  victim  with  most  sanguinary  results. 
And  all  this  time  the  pitero  was  wailing  out  his  piercing 
tones,  while  the  cracked  voices  of  several  of  the  men  united 
in  singing  the  hymn,  "  My  God  and  My  Redeemer." 

The  following  day  the  procession  with  its  flagellations 
was  repeated.  In  the  afternoon  three  of  the  blind-folded 
brothers  were  led  to  the  spot  where  there  were  three  large, 
heavy,  rude  crosses  made  of  pine  trees  on  which  the  bark 
still  remained.  It  seemed  to  require  considerable  effort  on 
the  part  of  four  or  five  of  the  attendant  brothers  to  lift 
these  crosses  and  place  them  on  the  backs  of  the  pilgrims, 
and  then  the  procession  slowly  started  up  the  canyon.  The 


18  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

poor  wretches  could  barely  stagger  along  under  their  heavy 
burdens,  and  finally  one  of  them  evidently  fainted,  for  he 
fell,  with  the  cross  crushing  the  upper  part  of  his  body, 
and  remained  perfectly  still  until  several  of  the  attendants 
lifted  the  cross  and  another  struck  the  prostrate  pilgrim 
with  a  cactus  whip  and  followed  his  blows  with  several 
kicks.  The  suffering  wretch  staggered  to  his  feet  and 
again  the  cross  was  put  on  his  shoulders,  but  this  time  he 
was  urged  on  his  way  at  about  every  other  step  with  a 
vicious  blow  from  the  whip  of  his  attendant  brother. 

A  little  further  on  one  of  the  other  cross-bearers  fell, 
but  he  seemed  to  have  more  strength  than  the  first  one  who 
had  fallen,  and  soon  regained  his  feet.  It  seemed  a  pitiably 
long  time  before  that  strangely  solemn  yet  pathetically  hid- 
eous procession  reached  the  little  knoll  where  holes  already 
had  been  dug  for  the  standing  up  of  the  crosses.  This  knoll 
or  hillock  was  called  El  Calvario  —  The  Calvary. 

Here  other  ceremonies  were  gone  through,  and  that 
evening  in  the  little  church  in  town  there  was  a  graphic 
and  dramatic  representation  of  the  events  that  followed 
the  crucifixion  —  the  darkness,  the  rending  of  the  veil  of 
the  temple,  the  earthquake,  and  the  arising  of  the  dead 
from  their  tombs. 

At  Taos,  at  the  present  time,  lives  the  Chief  Brother  of 
the  whole  organization.  Hence  the  morada — or  church  — 
here  sees  many  manifestations  of  the  order's  activity.  It  is 
located  some  distance  from  the  town,  and  appears  like  any 
adobe  house,  save  for  the  several  large  crosses  that  stand 
outside,  leaning  against  the  adobe  wall  of  the  corral.  These 
are  made  of  the  undressed  trunks  or  limbs  of  trees  and  are 
fearfully  heavy,  as  I  found  out  when  I  tried  to  lift  them. 


OLD  TAOS  AND  THE  FLAGELLANTES         19 

Inside  the  morada  is  an  altar,  fully  decorated  with  rude 
paintings,  figures  of  saints,  etc.,  dominated  by  a  large  cruci- 
fix on  which  is  the  impaled  Christ,  in  the  most  hideous 
realism.  In  addition  is  a  small  wagon  —  about  the  size  of 
a  child's  toy  express  wagon  —  in  which  is  a  repulsive  figure 
of  Death,  used  in  the  lenten  ceremonies  of  the  order — for 
their  chief  activities  are  centered  in  the  forty  days  of  Lent, 
and  the  great  days  are  Good  Friday  and  Easter  Sunday, 
though  scourgings  take  place  on  the  three  days  preceding 
the  date  of  our  Lord's  crucifixion. 

Taos  may  be  reached  with  comparative  ease  from  the 
Denver  and  Rio  Grande  Railway  station  of  Servilleta.  A 
stage  drive  of  thirty  miles  takes  one  across  the  valley  of  the 
Rio  Grande  River,  as  Charles  Francis  Saunders  describes  it : 

Across  a  sunny,  open  mesa  country,  rimmed  about  with 
magnificent  mountains,  which  the  declining  sun  touches  with 
fascinating  colors  —  pink  and  red  and  wine,  amethyst  and 
violet  and  purple.  Halfway  on  our  journey  and  without 
warning,  the  highway  runs  out  to  the  brink  of  a  narrow  pre- 
cipitous gorge,  and,  six  hundred  feet  below  you,  the  current 
of  the  Rio  Grande  plunges  and  roars.  Down  it,  into  the  depths, 
your  team  picks  its  way  gingerly  by  a  road  cut  out  of  the 
perpendicular  canyon  sides  to  meet  the  river  and  to  cross  it. 
There  is  a  little  riverside  stopping-place  down  there  where 
you  may  break  your  journey,  if  you  wish ;  then,  climbing  out 
of  the  gorge  by  the  canyon  of  the  Arroyo  Hondo,  where  a 
hurrying  stream  of  clear  mountain  water  flashes  and  bounds 
down  among  the  rocks,  you  are  again  upon  the  wide  plain. 
Before  you  is  the  ineffable  splendour  of  the  Rockies,  their 
sides  all  splashed,  if  it  be  autumn,  with  the  orange  and  gold 
of  the  aspen  groves,  and  yonder,  at  the  mountains'  foot,  where 
one  canyon,  the  Glorieta,  more  noble  than  the  rest,  pours  a 
flood  of  crystal  water  out  into  the  plain,  lies  Taos.* 

*  Indians  of  the  Terraced  Houses,  p.  98.  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons, 
New  York. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  PREHISTORIC  CLIFF-  AND  CAVE-DWELLINGS 
OF  THE  SOUTHWEST 

NEVER  so  well  as  now  can  the  intelligent  American 
visit  and  understand  the  cliff  and  cave  dwellings  of 
the  United  States.  Never  before  has  their  relative  signifi- 
cance been  so  well  understood.  While  an  immense  amount 
has  been  written  upon  them,  half  of  it  has  been  "wild, 
woolly,  and  yellow,"  while  the  other  half  has  been  purely 
technical  and  scientific,  and  not  easily  accessible  to  the 
general  reader. 

The  boundaries  of  Cliff-Dweller  Land  in  the  United 
States  may  be  broadly  defined  as  including  Southern  Colo- 
rado and  Utah,  Arizona,  as  far  west  as  the  Colorado  River, 
and  New  Mexico  on  the  east.  In  this  region  there  are 
found  twelve  separate  or  reasonably  well-defined  distinctive 
areas  of  cliff,  cave,  or  other  prehistoric  dwellings. 

These  are  (i)  the  ruins  of  the  Province  of  Tusayan  — 
ruins  found  near  the  present  Hopi  Pueblos;  (2)  those  of 
the  Salt  and  Gila  River  Valleys;  (3)  those  of  the  Lower 
and  Upper  Verde  Valleys  —  the  latter  sometimes  called 
"  The  Red  Rock  Country  " ;  (4)  those  of  the  San  Francisco 
Mountain  region  —  near  Flagstaff,  Arizona;  (5)  those  of 
the  Little  Colorado  River  Valley;  (6)  those  of  the  Canyon 
de  Chelly;  (7)  those  of  the  Navaho  National  Monument 
—  Betatakin  and  Kitsiel;  (8)  those  of  the  Pajarito  Plateau, 

20 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST      21 

not  far  from  Santa  Fe,  New  Mexico;  (9)  those  of  the 
Zuni  region;  (10)  those  of  the  Chaco  Canyon;  (n)  those 
of  the  Mesa  Verde;  (12)  those  of  the  San  Juan  River 
region. 

Of  these  separate  regions  numbers  I,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  n, 
and  12  are  so  distinctive,  and  so  intimately  connected  with 
other  features  of  the  American  Wonderlands  as  to  entitle 
them  to  separate  chapters,  to  which  the  interested  reader 
is  referred.  The  others,  and  the  general  conclusions  drawn 
from  a  study  of  them  all,  form  the  subject  of  the  remainder 
of  this  present  chapter. 

When  these  ruins  originally  were  discovered  they  were 
thought  to  be  scarcely  related;  or,  if  connected  at  all,  very 
loosely  and  indifferently.  Now  it  is  believed  firmly  and 
reasonably  that  they  were  all  closely  connected  and  were, 
in  the  main,  the  work  of  the  same  or  allied  peoples,  the  dif- 
ferences being  chiefly  those  of  condition  and  environment. 

Then,  too,  it  must  clearly  be  understood  that  there  is  no 
line  of  separation  between  the  vast  number  of  ruins  of 
houses,  of  scattered  pueblos,  found  dotted  all  over  the 
major  area  defined  above,  and  the  cliff  and  cave-dwellings 
found  in  their  respective  limits  within  the  same  area.  To 
trace  out  and  finally  demonstrate  the  relationship  between 
these  ruins  and  the  cliff-dwellings  has  been  the  proud 
achievement  of  the  new  School  of  American  Archaeology 
which  has  grown  up  practically  within  the  past  twenty  to 
twenty-five  years. 

When  the  United  States  and  Mexico  went  to  war  over 
Texas,  and  the  Army  of  the  West  was  started  out  from 
the  East  to  invade  and  subjugate  New  Mexico  and  Cali- 
fornia, the  knowledge  held  by  the  world  at  large  in  regard 


22  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

to  the  vast  territory  we  now  call  New  Mexico,  Arizona, 
Colorado,  Utah,  and  California  was  exceedingly  limited. 
We  knew  of  the  city  of  Santa  Fe,  because  our  trappers 
went  through  the  country  and  occasionally  got  into  trouble 
there,  and  several  of  them  came  back  and  told,  in  book 
form,  as  did  James  O.  Pattie,  of  Kentucky,  of  their  adven- 
tures. His  book  was  published  by  John  H.  Wood,  in 
Cincinnati,  in  1831.  Of  course  we  knew  a  little  about 
California,  but  gold  was  not  yet  discovered,  and  most  people 
thought  of  it  only  as  a  remote  coast  settlement  of  the 
Mexicans,  and  could  not  understand  why  Benton  and  Fre- 
mont and  others  should  be  so  agitated  about  it.  But  Texas 
precipitated  the  trouble;  Mexico  and  the  United  States 
went  to  war. 

Sloat,  urged  on  by  Fremont,  took  possession  of  Cali- 
fornia, Kearny  and  his  army  annexed  and  possessed  Santa 
Fe  and  New  Mexico  —  which  then  included  Arizona  —  and 
the  various  Indian  tribes  as  well  as  the  Mexicans  were 
called  upon  to  pay  allegiance  to  our  government.  For  quite 
a  while  the  Navahos  regarded  our  treaty-making  with  them 
as  one  of  the  greatest  pieces  of  fun  of  the  century.  They 
were  willing  enough  (as  I  shall  show  in  the  chapter  on  the 
Canyon  de  Chelly)  to  make  a  new  treaty  every  month,  for 
that  meant  a  pow-wow,  presents,  beef,  and  the  chance  to 
steal  more  horses  and  mules,  as  well  as  make  fun  of  the 
white-faced  treaty-makers.  What  a  joke  it  all  was! 

It  was  while  these  army  officers  were  learning  something 
of  the  Navahos  and  their  peculiar  tactics  that  they  began  to 
learn  something  of  the  country  in  which  the  Indians  lived. 
Reconnaissance  parties  were  sent  out,  and  instructed  to 
report  upon  whatever  they  saw  or  found  of  interest.  Some 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST      23 

of  these  officers  were  keenly  alive  to  everything  that  bor- 
dered upon  archaeology,  or  seemed  to  promise  a  field  for 
investigation  and  exploration.  The  result  was  that  when, 
some  twenty-five  years  later,  the  United  States  Bureau  of 
American  Ethnology  was  organized  under  the  able  director- 
ship of  Major  John  Wesley  Powell,  and  the  experts  of  the 
United  States  Geological  Survey  were  studying  every  new 
formation  they  could  find  on  the  earth's  surface  of  our  new 
western  possessions,  confirmed  to  us  at  the  close  of  the 
Mexican  war  by  the  Treaty  of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo,  a  good 
deal  of  general  knowledge  was  gained  about  the  cliff- 
dwellings,  and  they  were  a  legitimate  subject  for  real  scien- 
tific exploration  and  study. 

The  original  explorers  had  found  that  the  whole  country, 
included  in  the  territory  bounded  by  Southern  Utah  and 
Colorado,  as  far  east  as  the  Rio  Grande  River,  south  to 
the  Mexican  line  and,  perhaps,  beyond,  and  west  pretty 
nearly  to  the  Colorado  River,  was  literally  covered  with 
ruins  of  towers,  big  communal  houses,  isolated  clusters  of 
house  ruins,  small  houses,  with  numberless  houses  of  similar 
style  built  in  the  faces  of  cliffs,  and  apparently  inaccessible; 
while  remains  of  prehistoric  irrigation  canals  lined  and 
seamed  the  valleys  in  every  direction. 

In  addition  to  these  ruins  of  communal  houses,  there  were 
a  number  of  Indian  villages,  called  by  the  Spaniards  and 
Mexicans  pueblos,  where  communal  houses  of  similar 
character  were  found,  but  in  actual  occupation.  These 
inhabited  pueblos  reached  from  Taos,  in  Northeastern  New 
Mexico,  not  far  from  the  border  of  Colorado;  down  the 
Rio  Grande  River,  on  and  near  which  there  were  over 
twenty  of  them;  westward  to  the  magnificent  city  of  the 


24  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

sky,  Acoma,  with  its  three-story  high  wall  of  defense 
perched  on  top  of  one  of  the  most  wonderful  and  thrilling 
"islands  of  rock"  the  eye  of  man  has  ever  rested  upon; 
to  Zuni,  where  a  seven-storied  pueblo  housed  the  inhabi- 
tants; and  to  far-away  Hopiland  —  or,  as  the  Spaniards 
called  it,  the  Province  of  Tusayan  —  where  the  Hopis  lived 
high  on  the  summits  of  inaccessible  mesas  and  performed 
strange  religious  ceremonies  in  which  they  handled  deadly 
rattlesnakes  and  carried  them  in  their  mouths. 

Magazine  writers  began  to  exploit  these  wonders,  and 
scientists  who  never  saw  them  also  had  to  have  their  say, 
and  the  results  were  the  scattering  over  the  whole  country 
of  a  vast  amount  of  false  knowledge.  We  heard  of  the 
Cliff-Dwellers,  first  of  all  that  they  were  descendants  of 
the  Aztecs ;  hence  the  score  or  so  of  Aztec  and  Montezuma 
names  found  in  the  West.  Then  we  were  told  that  they 
were  a  dwarf  race,  because  only  a  dwarf  people  could  live 
in  houses  that  had  such  small  doorways.  Next,  as  more 
cliff-dwellings  were  discovered,  we  were  informed  —  still 
by  the  so-called  scientists,  most  of  whom  had  never  seen 
a  cliff-dwelling  in  their  lives  —  that  they  were  inhabited  by 
a  people  who  had  fled  to  them  for  refuge  and  defense 
against  a  hostile  and  fierce  foe,  who,  eventually,  had  exter- 
minated them  and  left  not  a  solitary  descendant.  Therefore 
they  were  a  lost  race,  a  people  without  a  history,  and, 
because  they  had  no  knowledge  of  writing  and  had  left  no 
written  records,  it  was  utterly  impossible  that  we  could  ever 
know  anything  about  their  past,  or  how  they  had  been 
swept  so  completely  out  of  existence. 

Then  the  real  scientists  got  to  work.  They  called  a  halt 
on  the  guesswork.  They  said;  "We  don't  know,  and  we 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST      25 

never  can  know,  unless  we  quit  this  foolish  and  absurd 
'  theorizing '  and  try  to  learn  some  facts  upon  which  to  base 
our  theories.  We'll  excavate  some  of  these  ruins;  we'll 
see  if  they  have  any  message  for  us;  then  we'll  talk  to 
the  Pueblo  Indians  who  inhabit  these  modern  houses,  which 
in  some  respects  look  so  much  like  these  ancient  ruins,  and 
see  what  they  can  tell  us  of  the  ruins,  and  then,  perhaps, 
putting  this  and  that  together,  we  may  gain  some  real 
knowledge  of  these  ruins  and  their  former  inhabitants." 
Accordingly,  Lieutenant  Gushing  went  to  live  at  Zuni  with 
the  Pueblo  Indians.  Mr.  A.  M.  Stephen  went  to  Hopiland 
and  did  the  same  with  the  Hopis.  Dr.  Washington  Mat- 
thews, whose  duties  as  an  army  surgeon  took  him  to  frontier 
posts  in  Arizona  and  other  points,  began  to  study  the 
Navahos ;  and  Jackson,  Holmes,  Bandelier,  the  Mindeleff s, 
Colonel  James  Stevenson,  Major  Powell  and  others  began 
to  excavate  the  ruins  and  gather  up  material;  and  later, 
Fewkes,  Hodge,  Hough,  Hewett,  and  others  shared  in  the 
work  until  today  we  are  convinced  that  we  know  much  that 
could  never  have  been  learned  had  we  remained  foolishly 
content  with  our  hit  or  miss  guesswork. 

1.  The  ruins  of  the  Province  of  Tusayan.    These  are 
briefly  referred  to  in  Chapter  iv. 

2.  The  ruins  of  the  Salt  and  Gila  River  Valleys.    One 
of  the  most  notable,  as  it  was  one  of  the  earliest  ruins 
described  by  the  first  white  explorers  of  the  Southwest,  is 
the  Casa  Grande,  situated  about  midway  between  the  sta- 
tions of   Casa  Grande  and   Florence,   in  the   Gila  River 
Valley. 

The  popular  conception   regarding  it   is   of   a   solitary 
"great  house,"  standing  alone  in  a  plain,  the  only  ruin  of 


26 

its  kind,  and  possessing  a  mystery  as  great  as,  though  dif- 
ferent in  kind  from,  the  cliff-dwellings.  This,  however,  is 
erroneous.  Casa  Grande  is  but  one  of  many  similar  South- 
ern Arizona  ruins,  and  this  structure  is  surrounded  by  other 
buildings  and  plazas  covering  an  area  of  very  great  extent. 

The  ruin  was  first  seen  and  described  by  Lieutenant  Juan 
Mateo  Mange,  the  nephew  of  the  Governor  of  Sonora,  in 
1694,  at  the  time  he  was  acting  as  escort  for  the  indefati- 
gable missionary,  Eusebio  Francisco  Kino,  or  Kuehne,  the 
Jesuit,  whose  devotion  to  the  christianization  of  the  Indians 
led  him  to  the  most  perilous  expeditions  and  endeavors. 

Scores  of  travelers  have  since  visited  and  described  it, 
but  not  until  1891-2  was  it  carefully  studied  by  Cosmos 
Mindeleff,  one  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology's  experts.  He 
called  attention  to  that  which  the  casual  observers  had  prac- 
tically ignored,  namely,  the  large  number  of  surrounding 
ruins,  which,  being  less  imposing,  indeed  mostly  having 
crumbled  to  mere  mounds,  did  not  seem  worthy  of  atten- 
tion. He  estimated  that  the  whole  area  covered  by  the 
Casa  Grande  group  of  ruins  included  about  1800  feet  north 
and  south,  and  1500  feet  east  and  west,  or  a  total  area  of 
about  sixty-five  acres. 

Regarding  Casa  Grande  as  a  specific  type  of  structure 
widely  distributed  throughout  the  Gila  Valley,  but,  as  far 
as  is  known,  not  found  elsewhere,  Mindeleff  took  this  as 
an  indication  of  the  existence  of  a  definite  culture  existent 
in  this  valley.  Environment  stamps  itself  indelibly  upon 
the  buildings  any  aboriginal  people  erect,  because  the  prob- 
lem of  transportation  was  one  they  had  not  solved.  The 
difference  in  the  surroundings  of  this  people,  where  rocks 
were  exceedingly  scarce,  and  adobe  or  other  mud  abounded, 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST      27 

and  that  where  rocks  were  the  prevailing  material,  reflected 
itself  in  the  architecture.  These  people,  under  different 
climatic  conditions,  had  to  work  out  about  the  same  prob- 
lems of  existence  as  had  their  cliff-dwelling  brothers  of  the 
north. 

Public  interest  in  Casa  Grande  once  aroused,  it  mani- 
fested itself  in  the  formation  and  presentation  of  a  petition 
to  Congress  for  an  appropriation  for  its  preservation,  and 
in  1899  the  sum  of  $2,000  was  set  aside  for  this  purpose. 
While  this  was  altogether  inadequate  for  the  work  essential 
to  be  done,  it  was  a  start,  and  the  amount  was  wisely 
expended  under  Mr.  MindelefFs  direction.  The  results 
were  deemed  so  important  that  twice  in  later  years  Congress 
appropriated  $3,000,  making  in  all  the  sum  of  $8,000. 

These  later  amounts  were  expended  by  Dr.  J.  Walter 
Fewkes,  and  the  excavations  carried  on  by  him  have  widely 
broadened  and  deepened  our  knowledge  of  Casa  Grande  and 
all  the  ruins  of  the  Gila  and  Salt  River  Valleys.  Indeed, 
they  conclusively  proved  that  instead  of  this  ruin  being 
isolated  and  alone,  it  is  one  of  scores  of  similar,  though 
smaller,  buildings,  housing  a  population  that  occupied  a 
large  area,  larger,  indeed,  than  several  of  the  eastern  states, 
and  all  with  the  same  degree  of  ethnic  culture.  These 
people  lived  in  clusters  of  houses,  surrounded  by  a  common 
wall,  which  inclosed  also  massive  houses  that  served  as 
temples  or  as  citadels,  for  protection.  It  is  doubtful  whether 
they  were  all  occupied  at  the  same  time,  for  it  has  ever  been 
the  custom  for  these  aboriginal  people  to  keep  "on  the 
move,"  and  as  soon  as  a  drought,  or  some  other  untoward 
circumstance,  rendered  a  site  unfavorable,  they  left  it  and 
occupied  another. 


28  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

These  builders  had  two  ways,  at  least,  of  erecting  these 
large  structures,  the  chief  of  which  was  the  exact  counter- 
part of  our  reinforced  concrete,  save  that  there  was  no 
steel  or  other  reinforcement.  Moulds  were  made,  in  situ, 
into  which  the  native  adobe,  or  other  natural  cement,  was 
placed,  tightly  jammed  down,  and  left  to  solidify  before  the 
next  block  was  added.  Where  there  was  less  need  for 
strength  the  walls  were  made  by  fastening  upright  poles 
together  and  covering  them  with  the  mud  cement,  or  mak- 
ing the  mud  wall,  and  then  supporting  it  with  poles  on 
either  side. 

The  conclusions  to  which  Dr.  Fewkes  arrived  as  to  the 
relationship  of  these  ruins  with  the  cliff-dwellings  in  the 
north  and  east  are  exceedingly  interesting,  and  the  student 
who  desires  to  be  better  informed  should  carefully  read  the 
monograph  which  appears  in  the  Twenty-eighth  Report  of 
the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology. 

Not  far  away  from  the  Gila-Salt  population  was  another 
aboriginal  people,  working  out  their  life  problems  in  their 
way,  and  we  will  now  proceed  to  a  brief  consideration  of 
what  they  have  left  behind  them. 

3.  The  ruins  of  the  Lower  and  Upper  Verde  Valleys. 
In  the  early  days  of  United  States  occupation  of  Arizona, 
the  Apaches,  as  well  as  the  Navahos,  gave  the  settlers  an 
immense  amount  of  trouble.  Conjoined  with  them  in  their 
deviltry  were  the  Tontos  (really  the  Yamapais),  and  the 
Wallapais.  It  took  our  army  officers  a  long  time  to  learn 
how  to  handle  the  Indian  problem,  and,  when  the  Indians 
were  out  on  the  warpath,  how  to  fight  them. 

To  help  out,  military  camps  were  established  over  the 
country,  and  one  of  these  was  set  down  in  the  heart  of 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST      29 

the  Verde  country,  and  named  Camp  Verde.  One  of  the 
medical  officers  of  this  camp  was  inclined  to  keep  his  eyes 
open,  and  he  soon  found  out  that  the  Verde  region  was 
lined,  in  its  canyon  walls,  its  mesa  tops,  -its  valley  bottoms, 
with  ruins  of  several  kinds.  Mindeleff,  Hough,  and  Fewkes, 
in  late  years,  have  studied  them,  and  now  we  know  some- 
what of  their  character,  history,  and  the  traditions  connected 
with  them.  The  Pueblo  Indians  have  clearly  defined  tradi- 
tions telling  that  their  present  population  is  made  up  of 
an  aggregation  of  clans,  or  families,  that  came  in  one  at  a 
time  from  different  directions,  and  that  certain  of  their 
clans,  or  families,  came  from  the  Verde  country.  Several 
kinds  of  houses  were  found,  but  these  seemed  to  be  more 
the  result  of  physical  environment  than  anything  else. 

The  Cliff-Dwellers  built  in  the  cliffs  not  so  much  because 
a  warlike  foe  was  bent  on  their  destruction,  but  because  the 
cliffs  were  there ;  they  overlooked  the  corn-fields,  and  melon 
and  squash  patches,  and  therefore  were  the  most  convenient, 
easily-accessible  house  sites  they  could  find.  They  built  on 
the  mesa  tops  when  the  mesas  were  more  convenient,  and 
they  built  on  the  bottom  lands  when  such  offered  the  most 
advantageous  sites.  These  facts  soon  knocked  out  of  the 
heads  of  the  scientists  the  idea  that  the  Cliff-Dwellers  were 
a  separate  and  distinct  race  of  people.  They  were  the  same 
people  as  those  who  built  on  the  mesa  tops  and  the  valley 
bottoms.  This  also  disproved  the  idea  of  their  being  driven 
out  of  existence  by  a  warlike  foe.  And  we  soon  began  to 
realize  that  Indians  know  nothing  of  the  science  of  war  as 
we  understand  it.  They  never  plan  a  campaign,  and  carry 
out  warfare  in  our  sense.  Driven  by  hunger,  or  restless- 
ness, or,  perhaps,  desirous  of  avenging  some  real  or 


30  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

supposed  injury  or  insult,  a  band  of  them  starts  out  to  make 
a  raid.  The  nomad,  or  wandering  Indians,  to  which  class 
the  Apaches,  Wallapais  and  Tontos  belong,  not  having  any 
fixed  homes,  were  not  in  the  habit  of  accumulating  food 
supplies. 

It  was  a  great  temptation  when  they  came  upon  a  settle- 
ment where  the  inhabitants  were  industrial  agriculturists, 
who  stored  away  corn,  melons,  and  the  like  for  future  use, 
and  who  dressed  buckskin,  and  wove  cotton,  which  they 
grew  themselves,  and  made  sleeping  mats  of  yucca  fibre, 
and  baskets,  and  pottery,  I  say  it  was  a  great  temptation 
to  the  wandering  bands  who  had  none  of  these  things  and 
who  trusted  to  luck  and  their  own  thieving  capacities  to 
get  them,  to  raid  those  who  had  been  so  provident  as  to 
have  them.  To  protect  themselves,  therefore,  when  these 
raids  began,  the  sedentary,  or  home-loving  agricultural 
Indians,  banded  together.  They  built  their  great  com- 
munal houses,  with  outer  walls  like  rude  forts,  and  with 
only  a  few  entrances,  easily  defended.  They  tilled  their 
fields  and  generally  had  some  one  on  the  lookout  during 
the  "raiding  season,"  and  when  an  alarm  was  given  they 
hurried  to  their  homes,  closed  up  the  gateways  and  thus 
were  practically  safe  from  the  harrowing  process.  The 
cliff-dwellings  were  no  more  fortresses  than  the  big  com- 
munity houses  on  the  mesa  tops.  They  were  first  of  all 
houses,  with  outlooks  over  their  cornfields,  and  then  so 
planned  that  they  would  be  easily  defended  in  case  they 
were  raided  by  these  wandering  bands  of  thieving  and 
marauding  Apaches.  And  that  is  practically  all  there  is  to 
the  cliff-dwellings. 

As  to  their  vast  number,  and  the  indications  these  give 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST      31 

of  a  tremendous  population,  we  have  learned  that  the 
ancestors  of  the  present  Pueblo  Indians  were  all  the  time 
looking  for  good  cornfields.  Arizona  is  a  country  that  is 
uncertain  as  to  its  rainfall  in  the  valleys.  It  is  naturally 
a  country  for  irrigation.  Now,  while  the  Indians  under- 
stood the  art  of  irrigation,  they  were  not  engineers  and 
builders  enough  to  erect  great  dams  and  thus  create  storage 
reservoirs  for  cases  of  emergency  or  drought.  The  result 
was  that,  if  one  dry  season  came,  they  could  stand  that, 
perhaps  two,  or  even  three,  in  succession;  but  if  a  drought 
continued  longer  than  that  they  were  compelled  by  inex- 
orable necessity  to  move  on,  and  they  seldom  moved  back 
over  land  they  had  once  before  occupied.  Like  the  rest  of 
us,  they  were  convinced  always  that  "it  was  better  on 
before."  The  result  was  they  were  a  people  of  perpetual 
migrations,  and  at  each  migration  they  deserted  their  former 
homes  and  built  new  ones.  Here,  then,  we  have  the  secret 
of  the  vast  number  of  ruins  found  throughout  this  country; 
The  principal  and  best  known  ruins  of  the  Verde  region 
are  the  so-called  Montezuma  Castle  and  Montezuma  Well. 
The  former  is  located  in  a  cliff  about  five  miles  from  Camp 
Verde,  up  Beaver  Creek,  where  the  canyon  wall  makes  a 
great  curve,  like  a  basin  set  on  edge,  and  in  the  cavity  thus 
formed,  eighty  feet  or  so  above  the  foot  of  the  cliff,  as 
swallows  build  under  the  eaves  of  a  house,  the  Cliff-Dwell- 
ers  stuck  their  human  nest.  It  is  about  sixty  feet  wide  and 
not  quite  so  high,  four  stories  in  front  and  one  story  higher 
in  the  rear.  It  is  supposed  it  was  never  reached  except  by 
ladders,  but  the  Indians  say  this  is  not  so,  though  no  person 
today  could  ever  imagine  how  the  primitive  builders,  no 
matter  though  they  were  as  agile  as  mountain  goats,  could 


32  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

ever  have  scaled  that  cliff.  Certainly  if  they  ever  did  so 
it  was  less  precipitous  than  it  is  now,  though  the  ruin  itself 
is  little  changed  since  it  was  deserted. 

The  floors  were  made  of  adobe,  or  some  other  tenacious 
mud,  which  was  also  used  as  mortar  and  plaster.  The  fires 
were  built  in  a  sort  of  firehole  in  the  floor,  and  ashes  are 
still  found  there.  The  rafters  and  walls  are  smoky,  for 
there  was  no  chimney,  and  the  smoke  got  out  as  best  it 
could  through  small  apertures  in  the  walls  above.  There 
are  about  thirty  rooms  in  all  in  the  "  castle,"  but  not  many 
doorways.  Had  it  not  been  for  white  vandals,  members  of 
the  superior  race  that  thinks  first  of  all  of  money,  it  would 
have  stood  for  centuries,  as  it  had  done  in  the  past,  but 
these  gophering  ghouls  undermined  the  walls,  digging  for 
treasure,  dynamiting  or  blasting  wherever  they  thought  it 
would  hurry  their  excavations.  Fortunately  a  few  public- 
spirited  men  of  Arizona,  led  by  Dr.  Miller,  of  Phoenix, 
determined  to  save  it  from  ruin.  They  went  before  the 
legislature  with  a  broad-minded  bill  for  its  salvation  and 
further  preservation,  prohibiting  further  irresponsible  exca- 
vations, and  providing  for  the  establishment  of  a  State 
Museum,  to  which  the  generous  Doctor  philanthropically 
offered  the  whole  of  his  magnificent  collection  of  over  a 
thousand  pieces  of  ethnological  and  archaeological  interest. 

But  times  were  not  yet  ripe  in  Arizona  politics  for  such 
a  bill.  It  failed  of  passage,  so  Dr.  Miller  proceeded  to 
interest  his  friends,  and  soon  raised  enough  cash,  with  the 
gift  of  his  personal  services,  to  replace  the  damaged  founda- 
tion, run  iron  rods  through  the  building  and  securely  anchor 
it  to  the  cliff,  roof  it  with  corrugated  iron  where  needed, 
construct  easy  approaches  to  it,  clean  out  most  of  the  rooms, 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST      33 

and  put  it,  generally,  in  fair  condition.  It  is  now  made  a 
national  monument,  and  as  the  years  go  by  and  thoughtful 
Americans  wake  up  to  a  full  appreciation  of  their  historical 
memorials  the  name  of  Dr.  G.  W.  Miller  will  be  one  of 
those  highly  honored  because  of  his  far-seeing  philanthropy 
in  saving  this  wonderful  ruin  for  future  generations. 

About  six  miles  farther  up  Beaver  Creek  is  another  won- 
derful cluster  of  cliff  ruins,  but  they  are  secondary  in 
interest  to  the  place  where  they  are  found.  This  is  a  crater- 
appearing  hole  in  the  heart  of  a  mound-like  elevation  by 
the  side  of  the  creek.  As  one  walks  up  the  gentle  slope  it 
looks  like  hundreds  of  other  hills  —  a  thousand  —  one  may 
find  in  the  Southwest,  but  as  soon  as  he  reaches  the  top  he 
stops  and  takes  a  deep  breath  in  very  amazement  and  sur- 
prise. For  there,  before  him,  in  a  moment  appears  a  vast 
hole,  rudely  circular  in  form,  about  400  feet  across  in  the 
widest  part,  and  from  sixty  to  eighty  feet  deep,  at  the 
bottom  of  which  is  a  black-velvet-faced  pool  of  water  that 
seems  as  if  it  had  sprung  up  in  some  magical  fashion  from 
the  River  Styx,  or  some  equally  spooky  source.  One's  first 
impulse  is  to  throw  a  rock  into  it,  and  looking  about  for  one, 
one  walks  around  the  edge  and  there,  on  the  creek  side, 
where  it  has  cut  deep  into  the  side  of  the  mound  during 
flood  times,  so  that  it  appears  a  mere  thin  shell,  resting 
right  on  the  knife-blade  edge,  is  a  ruined  pueblo.  Some  of 
the  remaining  walls  are  yet  eight  feet  high,  and  it  was  evi- 
dently built  there  so  as  to  overlook  the  cornfields  on  the 
creek  bank  beneath.  Mr.  C.  F.  Lummis  says  of  it : 

The  fort-house  absolutely  controlled  the  only  reasonable 
entrance  to  the  well;  the  only  other  path  down  to  the  lake's 
edge  could  be  held  by  boys  against  an  enemy. 


34  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Clambering  down  this  cliff  path  to  the  little  platform  at 
the  water  level,  one  is  suddenly  aware  of  a  cave  mouth  even 
gloomier  than  the  gloomy  lake.  A  sad  little  sycamore  stands 
before  it,  and  beyond  stretches  that  strange,  dark,  unscratched 
mirror  of  the  dark  pool.  The  cave  is  a  natural  limestone 
cave,  burrowing  hundreds  of  feet  under  the  hill;  but  at  the 
first  turn  in  it  the  explorer  shivers  with  sudden  wonder.  For 
here,  too,  were  the  homes  of  the  hunted  Pueblos.  Away  back 
in  the  gloom  is  a  strong  wall  of  prehistoric  masonry,  with  a 
narrow  doorway;  and  back  again  another  door  and  another 
wall,  and  so  on.  The  limestone  floor  rings  in  places  bell-like 
to  the  tread,  and  deep  under  it  one  can  hear  the  chuckle  of 
subterranean  water  sprites.  Here  and  there,  too,  it  is  broken 
through,  and  there  is  the  buried  brook  ready  to  be  drunk 
from  as  in  the  old  days.  *  *  *  Here  are  still  the  frag- 
ments of  the  Cliff-Dwellers'  pottery  and  of  their  agate  tools; 
and  in  one  room  the  unforgetful  mortar  preserves  the  perfect 
imprint  of  a  baby's  hand  that  pressed  it  wet  a  thousand  years, 
maybe,  ago.* 

Many  of  the  cliff  ruins  of  the  Upper  Verde  are  mainly 
caves,  hollowed  both  by  nature  and  man  out  of  the  soft 
strata  found  in  the  faces  of  certain  cliffs.  Hammered  with 
the  rude  stone  implements  of  the  primitive  man,  great  flakes 
fell  off,  and  thus  a  small  cave  could  speedily  be  enlarged  to 
the  size  required.  Then,  for  protection,  a  wall  was  built  in 
front,  or  on  the  sides,  and  the  back  of  the  cliff  and  its  upper 
wall,  formed  the  back  and  roof  of  the  human  habitation. 
There  are  literally  hundreds  of  such  rooms  and  cave- 
dwellings  in  this  region. 

Another  class  of  dwellings  used  to  exist  here,  the  remains 
of  which  can  now  be  pointed  out.  These  were  built  on 
foundations  of  heavy  boulders,  and  consisted  of  the  primi- 
tive man's  foreshadowing  of  what  today  is  known  as  rein- 

*  C.  F.  Lummis,  "Our  Western  Wonderlands,"  in  Land  of  Sunshine. 


fe 

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CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST      35 

forced  concrete.  He  made  a  rude  framework  of  wattled 
willows  and  then  plastered  it  on  both  sides  with  mud. 

Still  another  indication  of  aboriginal  man  is  found  in  the 
rude  forts  that  occupy  many  mesa  tops.  These  are  generally 
made  of  massive  loose-stone  walls,  several  feet  thick,  rectan- 
gular in  shape,  and  evidently  intended  solely  for  places  of 
retreat  in  cases  of  sudden  attack. 

That  these  people  were  industrious  agriculturists  is  proven 
by  the  many  remains  of  irrigation  canals  which  line  and 
seam  the  hillsides  and  valleys.  Some  of  these  have  been 
taken  advantage  of  by  modern  farmers  and  are  today  in  use. 

4.  The  ruins  of  the  San  Francisco  Mountains  region,  near 
Flagstaff.  When  I  first  began  to  visit  the  Flagstaff  region, 
about  thirty  years  ago,  the  livery  stable  keepers  were  just 
beginning  to  realize  the  commercial  advantages  of  the  cave 
and  cliff-dwellings  which  had  been  found  within  some  ten 
or  twelve  miles  of  the  town.  The  former  were  located  in 
the  volcanic  cones  almost  due  east,  while  the  latter  were  in 
Walnut  Canyon,  to  the  southeast,  the  ride  to  both  of  them 
and  back,  from  the  town,  forming  the  three  sides  of  a  rudely 
equilateral  triangle,  each  member  of  which  was  about  ten 
miles  long.  The  cave-dwellings  were  partially  natural  and 
partially  excavated  out  of  the  friable  volcanic  breccia  of 
which  the  volcanic  hills  are  formed.  Later,  I  shall  refer  to 
the  lava  fields  in  the  neighborhood  of  Flagstaff,  to  which 
these  hills  belong. 

Some  of  the  rooms  have  vertical  entrances;  in  other 
words,  one  simply  drops  through  a  hole  to  the  level  of  the 
floor  beneath.  Doubtless  the  inhabitants  used  primitive  lad- 
ders, as  their  descendants  do  today;  for  Major  Powell 
found  that  the  Havasupais,  who  now  reside  in  Havasu  — 


36  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Blue-Water  —  or  Cataract  Canyon,  claim  that  their  ances- 
tors used  to  occupy  these  caves  before  and  after  the  arrival 
of  the  Spaniards  in  the  country.  Other  rooms  are  entered 
laterally,  the  caves  being  hollowed  out  on  the  same  level  as 
the  entrances,  though  everything  is  rude  and  governed 
entirely  by  the  conditions  and  the  evident  whim  of  the 
excavator.  The  chief  evidences  of  anything  savoring  of 
human  culture  are  the  plastering  of  the  rooms,  the  leveling 
and  smooth  surfacing  of  the  floors  by  the  introduction  of 
mud  cement,  the  metates  for  grinding,  and  the  pottery  that 
has  been  found. 

There  is  a  great  similarity  existing  between  these  caves 
and  those  of  the  Upper  Verde  Valley,  the  only  difference 
being  in  the  material  out  of  which  the  caves  were  hollowed. 
Undoubtedly,  the  ethnic  culture  of  the  two  peoples  was 
practically  the  same,  hence  it  may  have  been  that  they  were 
occupied  by  the  same  people,  at  different  periods  of  their 
migrations. 

5.  The  Little  Colorado  ruins.  Some  of  the  earliest  pho- 
tographs I  ever  made  in  Arizona  were  of  ruins  near  the 
Tuba  road  from  Flagstaff,  and  of  others  near  Black  Falls 
of  the  Little  Colorado.  In  his  studies  of  the  ruins  of 
Arizona  Dr.  Fewkes  visited  these  and  made  a  number 
of  excavations,  finding  much  pottery,  and  many  stone  and 
other  implements.  He  found  connecting  resemblances  in 
the  former  suggestive  of  both  Zuni  and  Hopi,  indicating 
what  tradition  has  long  asserted,  that  they  are  a  related 
people.  These  ruins  reach  almost  from  the  junction  of  the 
Little  Colorado  with  the  Colorado  Grande,  in  the  Grand 
Canyon,  to  all  the  southern  tributaries  and  beyond,  down 
to  the  headwaters  of  the  Salt,  the  Gila,  and  the  Verde. 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST      37 

Taken  in  connection  with  the  present-day  life  of  the 
modern  pueblos  of  the  Hopi,  there  are  few  objects  in  Ari- 
zona more  interesting  than  these  remains  of  a  passing  phase 
of  human  culture.  They  teach  us  the  solidarity  of  human 
life.  Man  is  nowhere  isolated.  By  his  very  efforts  and 
struggles,  his  progress  and  his  retrogressions,  he  is  con- 
nected with  his  fellows,  and  in  what  we  read  of  the  life 
history  of  the  aboriginal  builders  of  these  ancient  ruins, 
we  may  see  the  stages  by  which  our  own  attainments  in 
civilization  have  come. 


CHAPTER  IV 
TO  BETATAKIN  AND  KITSIEL 

ONE  of  Arizona's  great  charms  is  that  it  is  so  big  that 
hundreds  of  square  miles  are  as  yet  unspoiled  by  rail- 
ways, cities,  and  modern  civilization.  What  a  grand  thing 
it  is  that  a  civilized,  modern,  city  man,  either  of  the  East 
or  the  West,  can,  within  a  few  hours  of  his  own  home,  find 
not  one,  but  a  score  of  places,  as  absolutely  desert  and  out 
of  civilization  as  Burnaby  found  on  his  A  Ride  to  Khiva,  or 
Sven  Hedin  on  his  Asiatic  journeys.  Two  of  the  most 
vivid  and  truthful  articles  that  have  recently  appeared  in 
American  magazine  literature  contain  the  account  of  a  trip 
through  desert  Arizona  to  one  of  the  marvelous  Cliff-Cities 
named  in  the  heading  of  this  chapter.  Both  of  these  ruins 
had  recently  been  discovered,  Kitsiel,  by  Richard  Wetherill 
in  1894,  and  Betatakin,  by  Professor  Byron  Cummings,  of 
the  University  of  Utah,  in  1909.  These  had  been  shown 
to  Mr.  W.  B.  Douglass,  Especial  Examiner  and  Surveyor 
of  the  Interior  Department,  and  by  him  reported  to  his 
superiors,  and  they  were  thereupon  deemed  so  important 
that  they  were  created  into  the  Navaho  National  Monument 
and  Dr.  Fewkes  detailed  to  examine  and  report  upon  them. 
This  report  was  published  as  Bulletin  50  of  the  Bureau  of 
Ethnology,  and  from  it  Mr.  J.  W.  Oskison  gained  his 
information  and  inspiration  to  visit  the  ruins.  His  two 
articles  appeared  in  recent  numbers  of  The  Outing  Maga- 

38 


TO  BETATAKIN  AND  KITSIEL  39 

sine.  The  pictures  he  draws  of  the  land  and  its  aboriginal 
inhabitants,  and  also  of  the  white  man's  general  ignorance 
of  these  remote  corners,  are  not  more  graphic  than  they  are 
reliable,  and  it  is  to  illustrate  the  influence  this  part  of  the 
Arizona  country  has  on  the  minds  of  a  blase  newspaper  man 
that  the  following  quotations  are  made.  Following  Dr. 
Fewkes's  somewhat  vague  directions  of  his  own  journey, 
Mr.  Oskison  engaged  a  man  at  Flagstaff  to  take  himself 
and  companion  to  Betatakin.  They  soon  discovered  that 
their  "guide"  knew  very  little  more  of  the  country  than 
they  did :  a  not  uncommon  experience,  for  Arizona,  with  its 
nearly  1 14,000  square  miles  of  territory,  is  not  a  small  land, 
being  very  nearly  as  large  as  all  New  England  from  Maine 
to  and  including  the  State  of  New  York. 

Dr.  Fewkes  tells  of  three  ways  one  can  go  to  the  Navaho 
National  Monument,  viz.,  via  Flagstaff,  Arizona;  Gallup, 
and  Farmington,  New  Mexico.  He  and  Mr.  Oskison  went 
by  the  former  route,  as  I  myself  have  done  a  large  part 
of  the  way,  but  on  my  last  trip  when,  for  the  first  time, 
I  actually  reached  the  ruins,  I  went  in  by  Gallup,  and  out 
by  Farmington.  So  that  I  have  had  the  experience  of  all 
three  routes.  By  none  of  them  is  there  any  regular  stage 
—  one  either  has  to  "  outfit "  or  arrange  to  be  taken,  and  the 
difficulty  with  the  livery  men  at  Flagstaff,  Gallup,  and 
Farmington  is  that  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  any  of  them 
can  secure  a  driver  who,  in  any  true  sense,  is  a  guide,  either 
for  the  wonders  one  should  see  on  the  way,  or  the  ruins 
themselves  when  he  arrives  in  the  region  where  they  are 
supposed  to  be.  My  advice,  to  those  unacquainted  with  the 
country  at  the  present  date,  is  that  they  write  to  Wetherill 
and  Colville,  Kayenta,  Arizona,  and  have  them  come  to  any 


40  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

one  of  the  places  named,  or  even  to  Grand  Canyon,  Arizona, 
or  to  Mancos,  Colorado,  and  they  will  give  the  traveler  more 
sight-seeing  and  real  experiences  for  the  money  expended 
than  can  be  secured  in  any  other  way,  or  with  three  times 
the  expenditure.  The  distance  from  all  five  places  is  ap- 
proximately the  same  —  from  160  to  175  miles;  the  country 
to  be  traversed  equally  picturesque,  with  distinct  variations 
and  experiences,  which  I  will  briefly  name.  For  instance, 
from  Flagstaff  one  can  visit  the  Cave  Dwellings,  the  Cliff 
Dwellings  of  Walnut  Canyon,  Sunset  Crater  and  the  Lava 
Fields,  cross  the  Little  Colorado  at  Volz's  Crossing,  and  go 
by  way  of  the  Hopi  country,  seeing  all  the  pueblos  of  the 
three  mesas  and  the  ruins  of  several  of  the  older  villages; 
or  cross  the  Little  Colorado  at  Tanner's  Crossing,  see  some 
of  the  ruins  on  the  way,  then  visit  the  Hopi  agricultural 
village  of  Moenkopi,  and  strike  north  for  Betatakin  and 
Kayenta. 

From  Farmington  one  passes  by  the  San  Juan  Navaho 
agency,  at  Shiprock,  where  the  most  intelligent  work  I  am 
familiar  with  in  the  education  of  Indians  is  being  done  by 
the  superintendent,  W.  T.  Shelton.  Shiprock  itself  is  well 
worth  seeing,  as  is  also  the  San  Juan  country.  By  deviating 
from  the  straight  road  at  Tees-naz-paz  (the  Circle  of  Cot- 
tonwoods)  one  may  visit  the  Cliff  ruins  of  the  McElmo  and 
Montezuma  creeks  and  their  tributaries,  the  "  Land  of  Stand- 
ing Rocks,"  and  the  famous  cliff  and  other  ruins  of  the  San 
Juan,  and  even  enjoy  the  rare  trip  to  the  Natural  Bridges 
of  Utah  —  the  most  wonderful  natural  bridges  known  in 
the  world.  Then  the  ride  across  country  is  full  of  strange 
experiences,  for  the  white  man  is  seldom  seen,  and  the 
Navaho  equally  rarely  builds  his  hogan  in  a  prominent 


TO  BET  AT  AKIN  AND  KITSIEL  41 

place.  Hence  the  country  seems  deserted  in  its  native 
wildness  and  solitude. 

From  Gallup  one  visits  the  Haystacks,  and  the  Navaho 
Indian  agency  at  Fort  Defiance,  or  goes  more  directly  by 
way  of  St.  Michaels,  where  the  Franciscan  Fathers  have  a 
Mission  for  the  Navahos.  Thence  to  Ganado  is  a  pleasant 
and  easy  day's  drive,  meeting  on  the  way  Navaho  teamsters 
and  passing  by  hogans  where  weavers  are  at  work  making 
their  blankets.  At  Ganado,  as  is  elsewhere  related,  one  finds 
a  remarkable  host  in  John  Lorenzo  Hubbell,  a  prince  of  good 
fellows,  who,  with  his  gracious  daughters,  sustains  all  the 
ideas  of  generous  hospitality  that  have  come  down  to  us 
from  "  the  Days  of  the  Dons."  Here,  perhaps,  the  traveler 
may  be  favored  with  a  sight  of  some  important  and  impos- 
ing Navaho  ceremonial  and  dance,  or  see  sights  of  trading 
between  the  aborigine  and  white  man  that  will  stick  in  mem- 
ory for  many  years.  Then  from  Ganado  to  Chin  Lee  — 
which  is  at  the  mouth  of  the  soul-stirring  Canyon  de  Chelly, 
with  its  numerous  Cliff-dwellings  —  is  an  interesting  day's 
drive.  And  from  here,  across  the  wild  and  almost  trackless 
country,  to  Kayenta,  every  hour  has  its  own  fascination  and 
charm. 

From  Mancos  one  will  visit,  of  course,  the  Mesa  Verde 
Cliff-dwellings  and  the  Ute  Indian  agency,  striking  across 
to  the  Montezuma  and  McElmo  Cliff-ruins,  and  the  Natural 
Bridges,  and  thence  to  Kayenta. 

The  rates  charged  by  Wetherill  and  Colville  are  very  rea- 
sonable, considering  the  specific  quality  and  quantity  of 
knowledge  possessed  by  their  guides,  the  difficult  nature  of 
the  country  to  be  traversed,  and  the  comfort  or  discomfort 
a  guide  can  visit  upon  his  employer.  Here  are  the  prices  I 


42  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

paid,  and  they  are  the  regular  rates :  Each  pack  or  saddle 
horse  in  the  party,  $1.50  per  day;  guide  and  his  horse,  $8.00 
per  day;  if  the  party  is  large  enough  to  require  it  a  helper 
must  be  engaged  at  an  extra  $3.50  per  day.  In  addition, 
the  traveler  pays  for  all  provisions  for  himself  and  guides, 
and  all  feed  needed  for  the  animals. 

In  my  own  case  I  left  Gallup  in  the  automobile  stage 
which  runs  regularly  to  St.  Michaels.  The  fare  is  reason- 
able and  the  ride  a  wonderful  change  to  one  who  knows 
nothing  but  city  boulevards  and  the  fine  roads  of  an  eastern 
state.  The  roads  were  somewhat  rough,  and  rain  made  them 
muddy.  But  the  changing  panorama  of  this  vividly  colored 
and  gloriously  carved  land  more  than  made  up  for  any 
roughness  or  muddiness  of  the  road.  St.  Michaels  is  the 
site  of  a  Franciscan  Mission,  where  a  band  of  devoted 
missionaries  are  carrying  out  the  ideas  of  the  friars  of 
early  days  and  seeking  to  uplift  the  Navahos  who  for 
centuries  have  regarded  this  country  as  their  legitimate 
home. 

The  following  day  I  drove  with  a  friend  to  Ganado.  He 
had  borrowed  a  pair  of  fiery  and  untamed  broncos,  but 
we  got  along  well  until,  just  as  we  came  to  the  straight  mile 
leading  down  to  the  trading-post,  something  went  wrong 
and  the  broncos  started  to  run.  I  sat  back,  prepared  to 
enjoy  the  run-away,  for  I  was  sure  my  friend  could  handle 
the  team,  when,  suddenly,  crack  went  the  single-tree,  and, 
leaping  forward  at  the  sound,  the  neck-yoke  was  released 
from  the  pole  and  immediately  the  latter  fell  to  the  ground 
and  began  to  tear  up  the  surface  with  every  jump.  Need- 
less to  say,  the  wagon  completely  beyond  guidance,  a  pair 
of  maddened  broncos  fastened  to  it,  the  pole  sticking  into 


TO  BET  AT  AKIN  AND  K1TSIEL  43 

the  ground,  and  swinging  first  one  way  and  then  another, 
was  an  entirely  different  proposition  from  a  straight  run- 
away, and  as  we  swung  around  to  the  left,  towards  a  barbed- 
wire  fence,  and  the  broncos  seemed  to  persist  in  that  direc- 
tion, I  decided  to  sever  my  connection  with  that  wagon-seat 
as  speedily  as  I  could.  Jumping,  I  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  head  of  one  of  the  scared  ponies,  while  an  Indian  hung 
onto  the  other,  and  at  the  same  time  ten,  twenty,  I  don't 
know  how  many,  hung  onto  the  wheels.  It  was  nothing  to 
them :  they  were  used  to  such  capers,  and  in  five  minutes 
we  marched,  a  triumphant  procession,  into  Hubbell's  hos- 
pitable home. 

After  ten  days'  enjoyment  here,  taking  in  Navahos  and 
their  dances,  Mr.  Hubbell  sent  a  Navaho  with  me,  driving  a 
buckboard,  across  to  Chin  Lee.  That  was  a  great  ride, 
especially  the  last  two  hours,  with  the  expansive  valley  and 
the  vast  range  of  mountains  immediately  before  us.  It  was 
over  this  range  that  the  celebrated  Doniphan's  Expedition 
passed  in  1847,  and  of  which  Hughes  wrote: 

This  party,  in  its  march,  surmounted  difficulties  of  the  most 
appalling  nature.  It  passed  over  craggy  mountains  of  stupen- 
dous height,  winding  its  way  up  the  steep  and  rugged  acclivities, 
each  man  leading  his  horse  among  the  slabs  and  fragments  of 
great  rocks  which  lay  in  confused  masses  along  the  sides  of 
the  mountains,  having  crumbled  from  some  summit  still  above, 
obstructing  the  passway.  Precipices  and  yawning  chasms, 
fearful  to  behold,  often  left  but  a  narrow  passage,  where  a 
blunder  either  to  the  right  or  left  would  precipitate  horse  and 
man  hundreds  of  feet  below,  among  the  jagged  and  pointed 
rocks.  Indeed,  this  party  ascended  and  descended  mountains 
where,  at  first  view,  every  attempt  would  seem  fruitless  and 
vain,  and  where  the  giddy  heights  and  towering  masses  of 
granite  seem  to  bid  defiance  to  the  puny  efforts  of  man.* 

*  Doniphan's  Expedition,  by  Col.  John  T.  Hughes,  Cincinnati,  1847. 


44  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Widely  traveled  Americans  who  think  only  of  the  Rockies 
and  the  Sierra  Nevadas  on  their  way  from  the  Atlantic  to 
the  Pacific  can  scarcely  realize  the  majesty  of  these  three 
ranges,  the  Chusca,  Tunicha,  and  Carrizo,  all  of  which  are 
in  sight  as  one  enters  Chin  Lee  Valley.  The  winds,  too, 
rush  over  them  at  times,  bringing  fierce  and  penetrating 
cold  from  the  snow-fields  that  crown  them  during  a  large 
part  of  the  year.  It  was  cold  enough  for  a  New  England 
winter  as  we  approached,  after  dark,  the  cheery  light  of  the 
Franciscan  Mission;  for  this  organization  of  pioneer  mis- 
sionaries of  the  Catholic  faith  has  another  outpost  of  civili- 
zation here,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Navaho  reservation. 
With  Fr.  Leopold's  cordial  and  hearty  "  Enter  and  warm 
yourself  "  in  my  ears  I  was  at  home  immediately,  and  had 
no  hesitancy  in  asking  him  to  arrange  the  trip  for  me  up 
the  world-famous  Chelly  Canyon  —  a  trip  the  description 
of  which  occupies  a  full  chapter  elsewhere  in  these  pages. 

Then  the  question  arose:  How  was  I  to  get  on  to 
Kayenta?  In  seeking  its  solution  I  talked  the  matter  over 
with  Mr.  M.  E.  Kirk,  one  of  the  three  Indian  traders  who 
have  posts  at  this  place.  He  solved  it  instantly,  provided 
I  was  willing  to  go  with  two  Navaho  youths,  neither  of 
whom  could  speak  a  word  of  English,  and  ride  on  the  top 
of  a  heavily  loaded  wagon  and  take  my  chances  of  it  break- 
ing down  on  the  way,  sticking  fast,  or  having  to  complete 
the  journey  on  foot.  The  more  the  trip  promised  of  pos- 
sible adventure  the  better  I  liked  it,  and  I  made  my  tentative 
arrangements  at  once.  The  only  drawback  was  that  I  could 
not  take  my  heavy  camera  and  plates  along,  and  they  had 
to  be  sent  around  to  meet  me  at  another  point. 

When  the  auspicious  morning  arrived  the  wagon  was  full 


TO  BET  AT  AKIN  AND  KITSIEL  45 

to  overflowing  with  hay,  sacks  of  grain,  boxes  of  canned 
goods,  and  the  like,  and  my  seat  must  be  wherever  I  could 
fix  myself  on  the  top  of  the  uneasy  and  unstable  mass.  I 
had  a  roll  of  blankets  —  for,  of  course,  we  were  going  to 
sleep  out  of  doors,  there  not  being  a  single  house  between 
Chin  Lee  and  Kayenta  —  and  enough  bread,  cheese,  and 
canned  fruit  to  last  for  several  days.  For  drink  on  these 
trips  I  am  always  provided  with  Horlick's  malted  milk, 
which  can  be  readily  prepared  either  hot  or  cold ;  and  for  a 
speedy  lunch,  when  it  is  not  possible  even  to  cut  a  slice  of 
bread,  I  have  a  supply  of  Grant's  crackers,  made  in  Berke- 
ley, California,  some  Horlick's  milk  and  chocolate  tablets, 
and  a  handful  of  raisins,  nuts,  or  dates.  Scores  of  times  in 
my  traveling  experiences  have  I  sat  and  munched  away, 
with  perfect  content,  at  this  simple  and  primitive  lunch, 
when  perhaps  a  rain-storm  forbade  camping,  or  the  swift 
coming  of  night  demanded  haste.  When  one  has  learned 
from  the  Indians,  as  I  did  thirty  years  ago,  the  art  of  Fletch- 
erizing,  and  has  a  reasonably  contented  mind,  such  a  lunch 
is  quite  as  satisfactory,  quite  as  palatable,  when  seasoned 
with  hunger  sauce,  as  though  it  were  a  seven-course  dinner 
served  at  Delmonico's,  the  Waldorf,  the  Fairmount,  the  Pal- 
ace, or  the  Oakland,  prepared  by  one  of  the  few  great  chefs 
of  the  American  world. 

The  time  of  the  year  was  November,  and  each  morning 
found  its  coating  of  hoar  frost  at  this  altitude  —  about 
7,000  feet  —  which  remained  for  an  hour  or  so  after  sunrise. 
As  soon  as  the  sun  set  it  became  bitterly  cold,  and  if  the 
wind  blew,  as  it  sometimes  did,  it  felt  freezingly  cold.  Of 
course  we  had  no  tent,  and  we  camped  each  night  in  the 
open.  I  had  plenty  of  Navaho  blankets,  and  we  built  a  fire 


46  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

for  boiling  water  and  cooking,  and  later  made  up  a  rousing 
camp-fire,  which  was  generally  replenished  and  kept  going 
all  through  the  night. 

What  a  ride  that  was,  and  how  I  wish  I  could  give  the 
story  of  each  day's  experiences  in  detail.  The  limitations 
of  space  forbid.  To  climb  to  the  top  of  the  load  was  easy 
enough.  My  task  began  when  the  wagon  started  and  came 
to  the  rough  spots.  There  was  nothing  but  a  natural  road, 
and  after  a  few  hours  this  almost  entirely  disappeared  and 
we  followed  a  mere  trail,  with  an  occasional  wagon-track 
appearing  once  in  a  while.  The  glorious  mountains  to  our 
right  in  purples,  blues,  and  greens,  seamed  with  black  can- 
yons, were  crowned  with  their  winter  caps  of  snow  and 
arose  over  ten  thousand  feet  into  the  purest  blue  sky  that 
ever  overarched  the  home  of  man. 

Though  Mr.  Oskison  approached  Betatakin  from  the 
opposite  direction  some  of  his  descriptions  will  perfectly 
apply: 

Our  road  ran  between  the  fields  and  the  foot  of  a  shoulder- 
ing wall  of  red  rock,  in  the  fantastically  eroded  crevices  of 
which  were  erected  the  brush  summer  shelters  of  the  families 
(of  Navahos)  who  tilled  the  fields.  Children  swarmed  over 
the  rocks,  companions  of  the  goats  and  the  dogs ;  old  women 
and  young  sat  in  highly  colored  groups,  sheer  curiosity  lighting 
their  faces  as  we  rode  past ;  in  the  fields  men  working  delib- 
erately at  the  corn-stalks,  hilled  so  high  that  the  ears  all  but 
dragged  on  the  ground ;  melons  of  all  shapes,  sizes  and  col- 
ors lay  between  the  widely  spaced  hills  of  corn ;  here  and 
there  the  more  vivid  green  of  an  alfalfa  patch  showed,  and 
down  by  the  main  wash,  on  beside  the  ancient  ditches  which 
bear  the  rich,  silt-laden  water  to  the  fields  between  rounded 
banks  hidden  by  grass,  rose  beautiful  old  cottonwoods. 
There  were  orchards,  too,  their  fruits  ripening  to  a  tempt- 
ing redness.  At  frames  stretched  either  out  of  doors  or  just 


OVER  THE  ARIZONA  DESERT 

TO   BETATAKIN   AND   KITSIEL 


THE  ARIZONA  DESERT 

ANOTHER  VIEW 


CLIFF  CITY  OF  BETATAKIN,  ARIZONA 


ANOTHER  VIEW  OF  BETATAKIN 


TO  BET  AT  AKIN  AND  K1TSIEL  47 

inside  the  wide  entrances  of  the  brush  shelters,  women  were 
working  slowly  at  the  making  of  blankets;  scarlet  strings 
of  peppers  hung  about  on  poles  and  over  fences,  and  yellow 
strips  of  melon  (perhaps  they  were  squash)  were  drying 
beside  piles  of  multi-colored  corn-ears. 

Color,  vivid  and  appealing,  was  everywhere,  the  more  mar- 
velous for  its  contrast  with  the  pale  glory  of  the  desert. 
Unchanging,  silently  vast,  smeared  with  color!  And  these 
people !  They  aren't  Indians,  but  Orientals.* 

There  was  one  difference,  however,  very  marked,  between 
Mr.  Oskison's  trip  and  mine.  His  was  in  summer  —  when 
the  rains  come  in  this  part  of  Arizona — and  mine  in  the 
beginning  of  winter.  Though  I  had  the  cold  nights  the  days 
were  crystal  clear,  bracing  and  cool,  yet  warm  enough  to  be 
pleasant.  Let  the  other  traveler  tell  a  little  more  of  his 
summer  experiences : 

Oh,  the  weariness  of  that  road !  We  plunged,  at  ten  o'clock 
of  a  blistering  morning,  into  heavy  sand  of  sparse  sagebrush. 
The  sand  dragged  at  the  wheels  of  our  buckboard,  the  horses 
crawled ;  Martin  and  I  tied  handkerchiefs  over  our  faces  to 
protect  our  noses  and  eyelids  from  the  burning  reflection  of  the 
sun  on  the  reddish  sand,  but  Joe  drove  on  unnoticing. 

Mile  after  mile  this  road  mounted  gradually  to  the  backbone 
of  a  mesa  lying  parallel  with  the  upper  reaches  of  the  wash. 
About  noon  we  looked  back  and  saw  through  the  heat-haze  a 
monstrous  black  thunder-cloud  coming  across  the  desert  we 
had  passed  over  the  day  before.  An  hour  later  it  hit  us ;  at 
first,  instead  of  rain,  this  fierce-driven  storm  hurled  sand  upon 
us !  Sand  in  wonderful  streamers,  sand  in  high-tossed  waves, 
sand  in  out-spread,  obscuring  curtains  blown  fantastically, 
sand  in  whirling  spirals,  and  sand  in  dull,  level-driven  streams 
whipped,  stung,  and  caressed  us,  sifted  into  our  hair  and 
through  our  clothes.  It  was  a  roaring,  stunning  sort  of  assault, 
but  luckily  it  came  upon  us  from  behind.  We  plodded  on, 
bunched  against  it  under  our  ponchos,  in  default  of  anything 
better  to  do.  Then  came  the  torrent  downpour.f 

*  Outing  Magazine,  August,  1914.  t  Ibid. 


48  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

How  mistaken  people  are  who  imagine  it  cannot  rain  in 
Arizona.  Rain !  I  have  seen  it  come  down  in  such  showers 
that  in  half  a  minute  one  would  be  wet  through  and  the  rain 
sloshing  up  out  of  his  boots  at  each  jog  of  his  feet  in  the 
stirrups.  At  such  times  the  country  "smells"  good.  The 
rain  seems  to  bring  a  flavor,  an  odor  of  its  own  along  with 
it,  and  it  also  persuades  the  earth  to  release  sweet  odors  it 
has  long  stored  up  in  its  breast.  Then,  too,  it  gives  one  a 
chance  to  take  a  swim  now  and  again  —  even  in  the  heart 
and  heat  of  the  desert.  Let  Oskison  tell  how  it  felt : 

Down  the  arroyo — now  a  living  stream — we  came  upon  one 
of  the  loveliest  pools  I  ever  saw.  It  had  been  ground  out  of 
the  soft  rock  to  a  depth  of  four  and  a  half  feet,  and  in  the  cen- 
ter was  a  perfect  rock  table,  its  top  rising  just  to  the  surface  of 
the  pool.  On  both  sides  of  the  water  rose  fifteen-foot  walls  of 
soft  rock,  closer  together  at  the  top  than  at  the  pool's  edge. 
A  tiny  waterfall  let  the  flow  from  the  wash  into  the  pool. 

In  that  pool  it  was  cool  —  we  forgot  our  weariness  there. 
Saddle  soreness  and  the  excruciating  tenderness  of  our  sand- 
blistered  and  sand-abraded  faces  were  forgotten.  We  stayed 
so  long  in  the  pool,  and  took  so  long  a  time  afterwards  to  eat 
the  good  meal  we  cooked,  that  there  wasn't  more  than  an  hour 
of  sunlight  left  when  we  started  on.  We  knew  that  it  must  be 
ten  miles  or  more  to  Red  Lake,  and  when  we  struck  the  road 
through  the  grease-wood  we  found  that  the  rain  had  turned  it 
into  a  nightmare  of  a  road,  inches  deep  with  adobe  mud,  than 
which  nothing  in  the  world  is  more  sticky  and  slippery. 

As  we  splashed  and  slid  on  darkness  fell ;  then  the  big  full 
moon  came  up,  turning  the  rain-pools  by  the  road  into  patches 
of  quiet  silver.  Back  and  forth  across  the  wide  flat,  seeking 
the  driest  going,  the  vague  road  to  Red  Lake  meandered ;  now 
we  rode  for  a  time  under  the  shadow  of  tall  cliffs,  then  we 
scraped  our  stirrups  against  a  moonlighted  palisade  showing 
fantastic  carvings  and  unexpected  recesses  where  branch 
arroyos  broke  in  from  the  desert  above.* 

*  Outing  Magazine,  August,  1914. 


TO  BET  AT  A  KIN  AND  KITSIEL  49 

We  had  no  rain  and  no  sandstorms  on  our  trip,  yet  I 
have  had  them  again  and  again  at  other  times,  so  can  fully 
vouch  for  the  truth  of  these  graphic  quotations.  But  we 
had  adventures  of  our  own.  The  third  day  out  we  came,  in 
the  afternoon,  to  a  sandy  hill  up  which  our  horses  in  vain 
tried  to  pull  the  heavily-laden  wagon.  Useless  were  all  the 
drivers'  persuasions.  They  held  the  lines  in  duo,  one  driving 
the  leaders,  and  the  other  the  wheelers.  One  whipped  his 
pair,  the  other  persuaded  his.  Then  they  changed  tactics. 
One  made  a  soft  hissing  noise,  something  like  that  made  by 
hostlers  when  they  are  grooming  their  horses,  the  other 
swore  vociferously  in  Navaho.  One  invoked,  the  other 
raved;  one  pleaded,  the  other  cussed,  but  seldom  did  they 
both  hit  upon  the  same  thing  at  the  same  time.  We  all 
dismounted.  I  aided  them  with  persuasion  and  forceful 
ejaculations  in  good  and  vigorous  English,  but  there  we 
stuck !  All  our  efforts  and  endeavors  were  ineffective,  boot- 
less, unavailing,  inutile,  unprofitable,  worthless,  fruitless, 
ill-spent,  barren  —  or,  to  put  it  in  one  word  of  simple  Eng- 
lish, supervacaneous.  It  is  an  awful  thing  to  find  your 
efforts  supervacaneous  when  you  are  so  far  away  from 
home  and  friends,  sympathy,  and  help.  But  there  we  were ! 
There  was  nothing  else  to  do  but  unload.  We  took  out 
about  half  the  boxes,  sacks,  and  bales  of  hay,  and  then  tried 
again.  The  broncos  had  rested  while  we  toiled,  so  this  start 
was  successful,  and,  once  started,  they  were  not  allowed  to 
stop  until  the  worst  of  the  hill  was  overcome.  There  was 
another  hill,  however,  a  mile  or  two  further  on,  so  the 
Navahos  drove  on  to  the  top  of  that  and  to  a  fine  camping- 
spot  in  the  heart  of  a  cluster  of  junipers  and  pinions  ere 
they  returned  to  where  I  remained  with  the  balance  of  the 


50  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

load.  By  this  time  it  was  quite  dark,  and  on  our  arrival  at 
the  camping-place  I  lit  a  big  bonfire  to  start  with  to  enable 
them  to  see  while  they  attended  to  the  stock.  My  big  cup 
of  hot  "  Horlick's  "  never  tasted  better  nor  felt  more  com- 
forting than  that  night ;  and  the  great  charm  about  it  is  that, 
while  it  is  quite  as  comforting,  invigorating,  and  stimulating 
as  coffee,  one  can  lie  down,  even  though  he  be  of  my  nervous 
temperament,  five  minutes  after  drinking  it,  and  almost  as 
quickly  as  it  takes  me  to  tell  about  it,  be  sound  asleep. 

What  a  glorious  outlook  was  ours  when  we  awoke  the 
next  morning.  Miles  and  miles  and  miles  we  could  see  in 
every  direction,  even  to  the  far-away  peaks  of  southern 
Colorado  —  the  snowy-clad  La  Plata  range.  The  atmos- 
phere was  pellucid,  the  frost  sparkling,  and  it  was  bright 
and  early  when  we  started. 

That  day  we  had  two  experiences,  though  several  times 
we  had  to  stop,  rest,  and  maneuver  ere  we  could  prevail  upon 
the  broncos  to  overcome  the  difficulties  of  the  —  what  shall 
I  call  it?  Certainly  not  road.  The  first  came  when  we 
arrived  at  a  narrow  and  very  deep  wash,  across  which  there 
was  no  road  nor  bridge.  One  of  the  boys  went  up  the  wash, 
the  other  down,  to  see  if  there  was  a  more  favorable  spot 
for  us  to  dig  a  way  across.  To  go  straight  across  would 
have  been  impossible,  as  that  would  have  run  the  pole  into 
the  steep  bank  on  the  opposite  side,  or  pitched  the  wagon 
onto  the  backs  of  the  broncos.  I  suggested  that  we  make 
an  oblique  road  going  down  and  out  on  the  same  line.  The 
chief  difficulty  of  this  course  of  procedure  is  that  it  racks 
the  wagon  as  it  crosses  the  bottom  of  the  wash.  The  rear 
wheels  are  tilted  at  one  angle,  while  the  front  ones  are 
rudely  and  jerkily  swinging  at  the  opposite  angle,  and  dur- 


TO  BET  AT  AKIN  AND  KITSIEL  51 

ing  the  rough  swing  on  the  pole  the  broncos  are  liable  to 
stop.  We  dug  for  an  hour  or  more,  and  then  I  put  my  roll 
of  bedding  in  the  bottom  of  the  arroyo  to  help  soften  the 
shock.  After  taking  out  a  full  half  of  our  load,  I  stood 
aside  to  let  the  Indians  perform.  One  held  the  lines  and 
whip;  the  other  put  all  his  weight  upon  the  upper  side  of 
the  wagon  to  keep  it  from  tipping ;  while  I  helped  by  holding 
my  breath.  I  was  sure  they  would  go  over,  or  smash  the 
wagon  when  they  hit  the  bottom,  but  I  was  a  false  prophet, 
and  glad  of  it,  when  the  wagon  reached  the  top  of  the  other 
side  in  safety.  The  Navahos  were  for  unloading  and  driv- 
ing across  again  for  the  other  half  of  the  load,  but  I  had  had 
enough.  I  persuaded  them  to  carry  the  boxes,  bales,  etc., 
across  and  reload  on  the  other  side. 

Later  in  the  afternoon  we  came  to  another  sandy  and 
steep  place,  where  we  stuck  fast,  and  had  to  do  the  unload- 
ing, digging  out,  going  on  ahead,  and  returning  for  the  bal- 
ance of  the  load.  I  went  on  with  the  first  half  of  the  load 
and  had  the  fire  built,  and  coffee  ready  for  the  Navahos 
when  they  came  up  with  the  balance  of  the  goods,  I  having 
had  my  "  Horlick's,"  rolled  into  my  blankets,  and  had  a 
good  sleep  long  before  they  arrived. 

Who  can  tell  the  joy  and  refreshment  of  those  out-of- 
door  sleeps.  We  had  bought  two  sheep,  for  food,  on  our 
way,  and  I  was  using  one  of  the  sheep-skins  as  a  mattress 
under  my  blankets.  It  makes  the  finest  bed  in  the  world 
for  out-of-doors  sleeping. 

I  have  said  nothing  of  the  mesas  and  buttes  and  towers 
we  passed  and  saw  shining  in  the  distance.  Many  of  them 
are  red  sandstone,  and  in  the  brilliant  vividness  of  the  sun- 
shine they  seemed  like  glorified  homes  of  angels  of  light. 


52  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Two  particularly  prominent  features  demanded  attention 
for  at  least  three  days,  before  we  came  anywhere  near  to 
them.  One  was  a  very  sharp  pointed  mass  of  red  sand- 
stone called  Agathla's  Needle,  and  the  other  a  Gothic  cathe- 
dral of  such  vast  dimensions  that  it  would  house  any  ten 
cathedrals  of  Europe  and  then  leave  room  for  all  the 
reverent  worshippers  of  Arizona  to  assemble  within  its 
walls. 

Kayenta  is  the  last  outpost  of  civilization  in  the  United 
States,  and  yet  it  is  full  of  the  surprises  of  culture.  Mrs. 
Wetherill  is  a  lady  of  refinement  and  education;  surrounded 
with  her  books,  her  organ,  her  choice  antique  and  modern 
china,  and  herself  radiating  everything  charming,  gracious, 
and  entertaining.  Her  husband  was  away  with  a  well- 
known  Eastern  millionaire  and  his  wife,  taking  them  on  a 
camping-out  trip  to  all  the  wonders  of  which  this  chapter 
is  merely  a  hint.  His  partner,  Mr.  C.  A.  Colville,  is  a  well- 
read,  thoughtful,  courteous,  obliging  gentleman,  just  such 
an  one  as  it  is  a  delight  to  meet  in  such  an  out-of-the-way 
place.  I  was  soon  made  to  feel  at  home,  and  when  Mrs. 
Wetherill  favored  me  with  a  sight  of  her  charts  of  the  vari- 
ous mosaic  sand-altars  of  the  Navaho  medicine  men;  altars 
no  other  white  person  known  has  ever  been  privileged  to  see, 
and  told  me  the  story  of  their  ritual  and  the  ceremonies 
connected  with  them,  the  reader  may  perhaps  begin  to  con- 
ceive the  happiness  I  felt,  but,  unless  he  himself  is  touched 
with  a  similar  "bug"  of  desire  to  know,  he  can  never  get 
further  than  a  slight  touch  of  comprehension. 

For  two  days  I  enjoyed  these  revelations,  though  the  win- 
dows had  to  be  screened  and  the  doors  locked  lest  any 
Navaho  unceremoniously  march  in  upon  us.  This  would 


TO  BET  AT  AKIN  AND  K1TSIEL  53 

have  meant  disaster,  most  probably,  for  the  one  guilty  of 
revealing  these  sacred  mysteries,  and  for  those  to  whom  the 
secrets  were  given. 

Hence  I  was  saturated  with  the  feeling,  the  atmosphere, 
the  spirit  of  the  Indian,  and  his  ceremonial  life,  his  marvel- 
ous environment,  and  his  religious  aspirations,  when  I 
started  with  a  white  guide  and  a  renegade  Navaho  to  see  the 
ruins  of  Betatakin  and  Kitsiel. 

My  Navaho  was  a  joy  to  look  upon.  His  face  was 
of  bronze.  Its  deep  furrows  revealed  wide,  long,  large 
experience,  and  the  development  of  rugged  and  stalwart 
character.  His  eye  was  as  clear  as  a  limpid  pool  of  purest 
water  —  the  eye  I  have  never  found  except  in  a  poet  or  man 
of  genius- — and  it  spoke  of  serenity,  calmness,  self-poise. 
He  was  one  of  the  old  men  of  the  old  school.  Nothing 
about  him  spoke  of  anything  later  than  the  Spaniard.  He 
had  no  American  article  either  of  clothing  or  horse-equip- 
ment. His  saddle  was  made  upon  a  rude  native  tree,  which, 
however,  affords  one  of  the  most  comfortable  seats  for 
long  riding  I  have  ever  enjoyed.  And  as  I  can  take  my 
hundred  miles  a  day  for  a  month  without  whimpering,  I 
think  I  can  claim  to  know  something  about  a  comfortable 
saddle.  The  leather — or  hide,  rather  —  is  put  on  while 
green  and  fastened  to  the  tree  with  brass-headed  nails. 

The  forehead  of  my  Indian  was  partially  covered  with 
the  band  a  that  surrounded  his  head  and  held  back  the  hair 
in  front.  At  the  back  it  was  done  up  in  a  queue,  somewhat 
after  the  Chinese  fashion,  and  then  doubled  over  and  over 
again,  until  it  was  about  eight  or  ten  inches  long  and  two 
or  three  inches  thick.  Around  this  a  narrow  woven  sash  in 
brilliant  colors,  mainly  red,  was  wrapped.  His  shoulders 


54  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

were  bare  but  his  torso  was  covered  with  the  merest  apol- 
ogy for  a  shirt-waist  made  of  buckskin,  the  inside  dyed  with 
a  powdered  mineral  oxide  largely  used  for  this  purpose. 
His  trousers  and  mocassins  were  of  the  same  material,  and 
over  all  and  around  him  was  wrapped  a  fine  blanket  which 
gave  an  added  dignity  to  the  natural  power  of  his  poise. 
For  he  stood  over  six  feet  high,  and  though  fully  sixty 
years  old,  walked  and  rode  with  the  ease,  grace,  and  spring- 
iness of  a  youthful  athlete.  His  hands  and  wrists  were  as 
slender  and  tapered  as  those  of  a  refined  woman's,  and  he 
was  as  proud  of  them  as  the  haughtiest  dame  that  ever  sat 
upon  a  throne.  He  wore  a  pair  of  earrings  of  turquoise 
and  shell  mosaic,  a  well-made  native  ring  of  silver  in  which 
a  turquoise  was  set,  and  around  his  neck  was  a  string  of 
silver  beads  to  every  ten  of  which  a  cross  was  attached,  and 
at  the  end  of  which  hung  a  triple  crescent  set  with  turquoise. 
This  was  fine  but  comparatively  modern.  It  had  belonged 
to  his  grandfather;  but  he  also  wore  a  wampum  —  or  shell- 
bead —  necklace,  where  pieces  of  turquoise  alternated  with 
every  three  or  four  beads.  This  was  his  pride  and  joy. 
It  was  older  to  him  than  Betatakin  and  Kitsiel.  It  had 
come  down  from  his  ancestors  who  lived  before  these  cliff- 
dwellings  were  built.  And  while  it  may  seem  absurd  to 
some  of  my  readers  to  relate  it,  I  asked  him  how  much  he 
would  sell  it  for,  and  he  laughed  when,  after  repeated  offers, 
I  finally  offered  him  four  hundred  dollars,  which  he  as 
positively  refused  as  the  twenty-five  dollars  with  which  I 
first  started.  In  order  to  make  up  again  I  had  to  explain 
to  him  that  I  had  merely  done  this  to  satisfy  a  white  friend 
who  had  commissioned  me  to  buy  a  real  antique  necklace 
at  any  price. 


TO  BET  AT  AKIN  AND  KITSIEL  55 

We  three  sat  around  the  camp-fire  that  night,  and  when 
my  Navaho  friend  —  as  I  feel  I  am  entitled  to  call  him  by 
now  —  learned  that  I  was  familiar  with  some  of  the  most 
sacred  of  his  rites  and  ceremonies,  he  spoke  to  me  freely 
of  the  myths  and  legends  of  his  people. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  pushed  on  down  Laguna 
Creek  and  then  into  the  side  gorge,  at  the  head  of  which 
we  were  to  find  Betatakin.  I  was  riding  along  just  behind 
the  Navaho,  thinking  over  what  he  had  told  me,  and  occa- 
sionally questioning  him,  when  suddenly  he  stopped  and 
pointed.  There,  ahead,  was  Betatakin.  And  here  may  I, 
in  accordance  with  my  plan  to  introduce  as  much  as  prac- 
ticable of  the  worth-while  writings  of  others  to  describe  the 
effect  of  Arizona  upon  them,  let  Mr.  Oskison  tell  how  he 
felt  in  the  presence: 

For  fifteen  minutes,  I  suppose,  we  were  keyed  to  the  highest 
point  of  expectancy.  Up  and  up,  the  tiny  stream  was  leading 
us,  over  rougher  and  rougher  heaps  of  huge  boulders,  between 
greener  and  greener  tangles  of  cottonwood,  willows,  birches, 
tall  rushes,  and  waving  vines ;  and  still  the  towering  cliff- face 
was  unbroken. 

Then  Martin,  walking  two  steps  ahead,  suddenly  stopped 
and  put  his  hand  out  towards  me.  I  came  up  to  feel  his  fingers 
grip  my  shoulder.  There,  wholly  revealed,  was  Betatakin,  a 
long  line  of  ruins  arched  over  by  a  span  of  rock  which  leaps 
to  such  a  height  that  it  takes  your  breath  away.  Clear  above 
the  tree-tops  it  all  rose,  a  dead  city  set  in  a  perpendicular  cliff- 
face  and  now  untouched  by  any  ray  of  sunlight. 

"  I  have  waited  here  forever,"  it  said  to  us,  "  untroubled 
through  the  years,  above  that  tangle  of  reaching  green.  I  have 
sat  here  serene,  watching  the  suns  come  and  go,  welcoming  my 
people  in  the  days  when  they  came  dragging  tired  feet  up  the 
canyon,  echoing  the  laughter  and  the  wailing  and  the  weak 
crying  of  the  men  and  women  and  babies  who  came  to  me, 
indifferent  to  their  departure,  bearing  with  the  few  explorers 


56  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

who  have  come  to  dig  among  my  ruins,  waiting  for  the  slow 
disintegration  of  time  —  and  now  you  have  come!" 

Dead  silence,  and  a  sort  of  terror  —  what  is  called  awe,  I 
suppose  —  for  the  first  minute.  Then,  quietly,  we  scrambled 
up  the  last  few  hundred  feet  of  vague  trail  to  the  lovely 
dripping-spring  which  issues  from  under  the  foot  of  the  ruins. 

We  climbed  up  the  narrow  trail,  stepping  across  piled  shards, 
testing  the  strength  of  dirt-covered  roofs  that  had  lasted  no 
one  knows  how  many  centuries,  peeping  through  to  cubicle 
interiors  where  the  cliff-dwellers  had  conducted  the  business 
of  living.  Our  eyes  searched  eagerly  the  face  of  the  rock- 
shelter  against  which  these  rooms  had  been  built,  and  we 
climbed  ever  higher  as  the  ruins  led  up  the  pitched  plane  of 
the  shelf  on  which  they  rested. 

Then  at  about  the  middle  of  the  long,  flat  arc  of  ruined 
dwellings,  as  we  stood  with  our  backs  to  the  wall  of  rock,  we 
turned  our  eyes  outwards  and  upwards.  "What  a  sensation  we 
had !  Leaning  far  over  us  and  framing  the  opposite  red  wall 
of  the  canyon  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  as  well  as  a  section  of 
pale  sky  above  it,  the  arch  of  rock,  like  some  giant  cathedral 
arch,  curved  eight  hundred  feet  above  us. 

"  Say ! "  gasped  Martin,  "  I  never  suspected  anything  so 
stupefying!  Why,  these  people  —  think  of  living  here,  in  a 
frame  like  this !  " 

Martin's  voice  awoke  a  splendid  echo;  and  we  shouted. 
Up  the  curving  vault  to  the  top  of  the  great  arch  rolled  the 
reverberations  and  dropped  again,  until  it  seemed  to  me  that 
the  sound  must  carry  half  across  Arizona.  Think  of  having 
this  wonderfully  perfect  sounding-board  (six  hundred  feet 
from  edge  to  edge  and  eight  hundred  feet  from  base  to  top) 
behind  a  chorus  of  strong-lunged  singers !  I  tried  to  imagine 
what  the  toilers  up  the  canyon  or  the  climbers  on  the  opposite 
cliff  in  ancient  times  must  have  heard  in  seasons  of  ceremonial- 
chants  which  rose  slow  and  soft,  then  a  little  more  rapidly, 
louder  and  higher,  faster  and  more  shrill  as  the  fever  waked 
in  primitive  blood,  and  culminating  in  such  a  maddening  roll 
and  sweep  of  ecstacy  that  the  mountains  were  filled  with  sound ; 
or  the  minor  sweet  songs  of  the  women,  who  crushed  the  corn 
and  baked  the  meat  while  they  sat  close  to  their  skin-swathed 


TO  BET  AT  AKIN  AND  KITSIEL  57 

babies ;    or  the  hail  of  some  deep-chested  sentinel  from  the 
topmost  roof.* 

While  Betatakin  is  a  cliff-dwelling  it  is  not  perched  high 
upon  a  tremendously  precipitous  cliff  as  are  so  many  of  the 
Arizona  ruins.  It  is  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the  "  head  " 
of  the  canyon  where,  alone,  a  mass  of  talus  has  fallen  and 
up  which  the  winding  trail  leads  to  the  dwellings  at  their 
extreme  right.  This  is  the  only  method  of  access,  as  the 
rest  of  the  ledge  overlooks  a  direct  precipice  clear  across 
to  the  other  side. 

President  Taft,  after  seeing  the  report  of  Mr.  W.  B. 
Douglass,  United  States  Examiner  of  Surveys,  declared 
it  a  National  Monument,  and  it  is  now,  therefore,  under 
federal  protection. 

To  attempt  to  enter  into  a  detailed  description  of  Betata- 
kin would  be  impossible  in  this  book,  hence  if  the  reader  is 
desirous  of  further  knowledge  I  must  refer  him  to  my  more 
extensive  work  devoted  to  this  subject  alone. f 

While  Kitsiel  in  many  respects  is  equally  interesting  with 
Betatakin,  our  visit  there  must  be  brief.  We  camped  out 
under  a  singing  pinion  tree  that  night,  glad  of  the  shelter 
from  the  cold  wind,  and  made  an  early  start  next  morning. 
We  did  not  stop  for  lunch,  a  few  Horlick's  tablets  and  a 
couple  of  Grant's  crackers  giving  me  complete  satisfaction. 
It  was  getting  late  as  it  was  ere  we  reached  the  ruin.  Wide, 
like  the  other,  yet  not  half  the  distance,  hovered  over  by  a 
magnificent  arch,  it  presents  the  appearance  of  a  line  of 
houses  of  two,  three  or  more  stories  high,  terraced  and 

*  Outing  Magazine,  August,  1914. 

t  The  Prehistoric  Cliff-Dwellings  of  the  Southwest.     Little,  Brown  & 
Co.,  Boston. 


58  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

retiring  into  the  recess,  built  within  the  shelter  of  an  irregu- 
lar gigantic  oval.  Indeed  it  looks  as  if  a  great  flat  onion 
had  been  taken  out  of  it,  and  one  half  of  the  mould  had 
disappeared  also. 

The  shadows  played  hide  and  seek  with  the  houses,  some 
of  them  receiving  but  little  of  the  sun  except  at  midday, 
for  the  ruin,  being  on  one  side  of  the  canyon,  with  over- 
hanging shelter  at  each  end,  it  is  protected  perfectly  from 
sun,  rain,  and  wind.  It  is  far  easier  of  approach  than 
Betatakin,  though  in  general  appearance  the  houses  are 
very  much  alike.  The  eye,  however,  is  first  of  all  arrested 
by  a  huge  log,  under  which  one  must  pass  to  reach  the 
rooms  above.  This  log  was  once  used  to  help  hold  a  retain- 
ing wall,  but  the  wall  is  wrecked  by  the  slipping  away  of 
the  stones  which  now  lie  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff. 

The  chief  point  of  difference  between  Kitsiel  and  Betata- 
kin lies  in  the  number  of  kivas — sacred  ceremonial  cham- 
bers—  where  much  of  their  wonderful  ritual  is  to  this  day 
performed  by  the  Pueblos  even  as  it  used  to  be  in  the  far- 
away past  by  the  Cliff-dwellers.  At  the  latter  place  there 
are  no  circular  kivas,  but  Kitsiel  has  eight,  complete  or  in 
ruins.  The  side  walls  vary  in  thickness  from  one  to  two 
feet  and  are  built  of  stone  laid  in  clay  mortar,  and  are  by 
far  the  finest  pieces  of  masonry  in  the  village.  They  are 
from  twelve  to  fifteen  feet  in  diameter. 

I  stayed  at  Kitsiel  until  it  grew  quite  dark,  and  both  my 
guides  were  impatient  to  be  off.  Personally  it  would  have 
been  a  pleasure  to  spend  the  night  in  the  ruins,  but  neither 
of  them  seemed  to  enjoy  the  suggestion,  so  I  did  not  press  it. 
Yet,  as  I  rolled  into  my  blankets  that  night,  my  feet  to  the 
camp-fire,  I  could  not  help  asking  myself  many  direct  and 


Photo  by  S.  M.  Young 


TWO  VlEVVS  OF  KlTSlEL,  THE 

RUINED    CLIFF    CITY    OF 
ARIZONA 


TO  BET  AT  AKIN  AND  KITSIEL  59 

searching  questions  as  to  how  much  farther  advanced  in 
real  life  we  are  today  than  the  ancient  Cliff-dweller.  Are 
we  healthier,  happier,  kinder,  more  useful  ?  For,  after  all, 
what  is  advancement  in  civilization  if  it  leaves  out  these 
important  phases  of  life? 

There  are  many  other  ruins  in  this  region,  but  none  as 
important  as  these.  I  left  Kayenta  more  than  satisfied 
with  my  visit  and  deeply  grateful  to  Mrs.  Wetherill  and 
Mr.  Colville  for  their  helpfulness. 

The  return  trip  was  made  partially  on  horse-back,  par- 
tially in  the  wagon  of  a  Mormon  teamster,  and  the  last  lap 
in  an  automobile  from  Fruitland  to  Farmington,  New  Mex- 
ico, from  which  point  I  took  a  horse  and  buggy  and  drove, 
alone,  over  the  wild  wastes  to  the  interesting  ruins  of  the 
Chaco  Canvon  in  New  Mexico. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE    CLIFF-DWELLINGS    OF    THE    MESA    VERDE 

UNDOUBTEDLY  of  all  the  cliff-dwellings  yet  discov- 
ered none  are  so  well  known  as  those  of  the  Mesa 
Verde  in  Southwestern  Colorado.  There  has  been  much 
written  about  them,  both  of  a  popular  and  of  a  scientific 
character,  and  they  are,  in  themselves,  most  interesting ;  and 
when  their  picturesque  environment  is  considered,  it  is  no 
wonder  they  have  attracted  so  much  attention. 

Possibly  Newberry  was  the  first  American  explorer  to 
see  and  describe  to  the  world  the  wonders  of  the  Mesa 
Verde,  and  the  vast  number  of  ruins  found  there  and  in 
the  adjacent  country,  but  his  report  made  nothing  like  the 
impression  produced  by  that  of  W.  H.  Jackson,  a  member 
of  the  Hayden  Geological  Survey  of  Colorado,  who,  in 
1874-5,  found  this  region  and  was  detailed  by  his  superior 
to  make  a  fairly  comprehensive  study  of  the  subject.  His 
report  was  published  in  1876,  in  the  Annual  Report  of  the 
Hayden  Survey  for  18/4. 

The  following  year  W.  H.  Holmes,  one  of  the  geologists 
of  the  expedition,  the  dean  of  all  scientific  students  of  the 
Southwest,  and  controlling  the  destinies  of  the  Smithsonian 
Institution  and  the  collections  of  the  National  Museum,  was 
detailed  to  accompany  Jackson  for  the  purpose  of  making 
further  studies,  and  they  included  in  their  investigations  the 
ancient  ruins  of  the  San  Juan  River  region.  Their  report 

60 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  MESA  VERDE  61 

was  published  in  the  Bulletin  of  the  Hayden  Survey,  Vol.  II, 
No.  i. 

The  region,  however,  was  too  vast  for  mere  cursory 
investigation.  Jackson  and  Holmes,  had  they  had  more 
time,  undoubtedly  would  have  penetrated  further  into  the 
mazes  of  canyons  of  the  Mesa  Verde  and  there  discovered 
the  ruins  that,  a  few  years  later,  were  to  cause  considerable 
stir  and  make  the  names  of  the  cowboys  (the  Wether  ill 
brothers)  who  discovered  them  world  famous. 

In  1892  Frederick  Hastings  Chapin,  a  New  Englander 
who  had  spent  several  vacations  rambling  in  the  high 
Rockies,  published,  in  The  Land  of  the  Cliff-Dwellers, 
accounts  of  his  various  investigations  of  some  of  the  ruins 
of  the  Mesa  Verde.  He  was  the  first  to  exploit  the  dis- 
coveries of  the  Wetherills  of  the  Cliff-Palace,  and  from  this 
time  undoubtedly  dates  a  great  increase  in  popular  interest. 
He  claims  that  it  was  owing  to  the  hostility  of  the  Ute 
Indians  that  no  further  exploring  was  done  after  Jackson's 
and  Holmes's  visits,  until  the  country  began  to  be  settled  up 
by  ranchers,  and  the  Wetherills  made  their  discoveries.  In 
the  first  flush  of  their  marvelously  interesting  finds,  Chapin 
came  upon  them,  and  accompanied  them  upon  some  of  their 
trips.  In  the  chapter  on  Mancos  Canyon,  in  his  book,  he 
describes  several  cliff-dwellings  that  escaped  the  notice  of 
Jackson  and  Holmes,  and  also  corrects  an  error  in  the 
statement  of  the  former  to  the  effect  that  no  dwellings 
were  to  be  found  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  canyon.  He 
claims  that  "some  of  the  finest  ruins  have  been  discovered 
upon  the  eastern  face  of  the  cliffs." 

In  the  next  chapter  he  proceeds  to  describe  ruins  found  in 
AcQwjtz  Canyon.  This  is  a  canyon  that  joins  Mancos  from 


62  OUR  A  At  ERIC  AN  WONDERLANDS 

the  east,  and  is  one  of  the  finest  of  the  side  gorges.  Ascend- 
ing to  the  top  of  the  mesa,  Chapin,  with  a  friend  named 
Howard,  and  Richard  and  John  Wetherill,  proceeded  to  the 
ruins. 

But  by  far  the  most  strikingly  picturesque  ruin  of  the 
Mesa  Verde  is  the  Cliff-Palace.  Here  is  Baron  Norden- 
skiold's  story  of  its  discovery : 

The  researches  of  Holmes  and  Jackson  were  until  very  re- 
cently the  main  sources  of  our  information  as  to  the  ruins  of 
Southwestern  Colorado.  The  cliff-dwellings  which  they  saw 
and  described  are,  however,  small  and  insignificant  in  com- 
parison with  those  discovered  in  recent  times.  [This  was 
written  in  1893.]  If  they  had  only  left  Mancos  Canyon  and 
followed  one  of  its  northern  lateral  canyons  for  a  few  kilo- 
meters, they  would  have  found  ruins  so  magnificent  that  they 
surpass  anything  of  the  kind  known  in  the  United  States. 
The  honor  of  the  discovery  of  these  remarkable  ruins  belongs 
to  Richard  and  Alfred  Wetherill  of  Mancos.  The  family 
own  large  herds  of  cattle,  which  wander  about  on  the  Mesa 
Verde.  The  care  of  these  herds  often  calls  for  long  rides 
on  the  Mesa  and  in  its  labyrinth  of  canyons.  During  these 
long  excursions,  ruins,  the  one  more  magnificent  than  the 
other,  have  been  discovered.  The  two  largest  were  found  by 
Richard  Wetherill  and  Charley  Mason  one  December  day  in 
1888,  as  they  were  riding  together  through  the  pinion  wood 
on  the  Mesa,  in  search  of  a  stray  herd.  They  had  penetrated 
through  the  dense  scrub  to  the  edge  of  a  deep  canyon.  In 
the  opposite  cliff,  sheltered  by  a  huge,  massive  vault  of  rock, 
there  lay  before  their  astonished  eyes  a  whole  town,  with 
towers  and  walls,  rising  out  of  a  heap  of  ruins.  This  grand 
monument  of  bygone  ages  seemed  to  them  well  deserving  of 
the  name  of  Cliff-Palace.  Not  far  from  this  place,  but  in  a 
different  canyon,  they  discovered  on  the  same  day  another 
very  large  cliff-dwelling;  to  this  they  gave  the  name  of  Spruce- 
tree  House,  from  a  great  spruce  that  jutted  forth  from  the 
ruins.* 

*  The  Cliff-D'cvellings  of  the  Mesa  Verde,  by  Gustav  Nordenskiold, 
Stockholm,  1893. 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  MESA  VERDE  63 

The  following  is  the  first  account  ever  written  of  the 
discovery,  and  as  it  is  generally  accurate,  it  is  particularly 
of  interest: 

Narrow,  winding  defiles,  precipitous  walls,  bold  headlands, 
and  overhanging  ledges  are  the  characteristics  of  Cliff  Canyon, 
and  within  its  labyrinths  are  most  remarkable  ruins.  Here  it 
was  that  Richard  Wetherill  found  a  large  structure,  which  he 
has  called  the  "  Cliff-Palace."  This  ruin,  which  is  situated  in 
a  branch  of  the  left  hand  fork,  can  be  reached  in  about  five 
hours  from  Mancos  Canyon.  A  long  day's  ride  over  the  mesa 
from  the  ranches  will  also  accomplish  the  distance,  but  the 
journey  from  the  Mancos  is  by  far  the  easier  of  the  two. 

On  reaching  the  brink  of  the  canyon  opposite  the  wonderful 
structure,  the  observer  cannot  but  be  astonished  at  the  first 
sight  of  the  long  line  of  solid  masonry  which  he  beholds  across 
the  chasm,  here  but  a  thousand  feet  wide.  In  the  first  burst 
of  enthusiasm  it  strikes  one  as  being  the  ruins  of  a  great 
palace  erected  by  some  powerful  chieftain  of  the  lost  people. 
The  best  time  to  see  the  ruin  is  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  sun 
is  shining  into  the  cavern.  The  effect  is  much  finer  than  when 
viewed  in  the  morning.  Surely  its  discoverer  did  not  ex- 
aggerate the  beauty  and  magnitude  of  this  strange  ruin.  It 
occupies  a  great  space  under  a  grand  oval  cliff,  appearing  like 
a  ruined  fortress,  with  ramparts,  bastions,  and  dismantled  tow- 
ers. The  stones  in  front  have  broken  away ;  but  behind  them 
rise  the  walls  of  a  second  story,  and  in  the  rear  of  these,  in 
under  the  dark  cavern,  stands  the  third  tier  of  masonry.  Still 
farther  back  in  the  gloomy  recess,  little  houses  rest  on  upper 
ledges.  A  short  distance  down  the  canyon  are  cosy  buildings 
perched  in  utterly  inaccessible  nooks.  The  scenery  is  marvelous ; 
the  view  down  the  canyon  to  the  Mancos  alone  is  worth  the 
journey  to  see. 

To  reach  the  ruin,  one  must  descend  into  the  canyon  from 
the  opposite  side.  What  would  otherwise  be  a  hazardous  pro- 
ceeding is  rendered  easy  by  using  the  steps  which  were  cut 
in  the  wall  by  the  builders  of  the  fortress.  There  are  fifteen 
of  these  scooped-out  hollows  in  the  rocks  which  cover  perhaps 
half  of  the  distance  down  the  precipice.  At  that  point  the 


64  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

cliff  has  probably  fallen  away;  but,  luckily  for  the  purpose 
of  the  adventurer,  a  dead  tree  leans  against  the  wall,  and  de- 
scending into  its  branches,  he  can  reach  the  base  of  the  parapet. 
One  wonders  at  the  good  preservation  of  these  hand-holes  in 
the  rocks ;  even  small  cuttings,  to  give  place  for  a  finger,  are 
sometimes  placed  exactly  right  even  in  awkward  places.  It  is  evi- 
dent why  they  were  so  placed,  and  that  they  have  not  been 
changed  by  the  forces  of  the  air  in  the  several  hundred  years 
that  have  probably  elapsed  since  they  were  chipped  out  by  an 
axe  made  of  firmer  rock.  There  occurs  to  my  mind  but  one 
explanation  of  this  preservation:  erosion  by  wind  is  one  of 
the  important  factors  in  chiseling  rock  forms  about  the  Man- 
cos,  and  as  we  observed  sand  in  these  hollows,  we  suppose  the 
wind  at  times  keeps  the  grains  eddying  round,  and  thus  the 
erosion  in  the  depression  keeps  pace,  perhaps  even  gains,  on 
the  rate  of  denudation  of  the  smooth  cliffs. 

It  takes  but  a  few  minutes  to  cross  the  canyon  bed.  In  the 
bottom  is  a  secondary  gulch,  which  requires  care  in  descending. 
We  hung  a  rope  or  lasso  over  some  steep  smooth  ledges,  and 
let  ourselves  down  by  it.  We  left  it  hanging  there,  and  used  it 
to  ascend  by  on  our  return. 

Nearer  approach  increases  the  interest  in  the  marvel.  From 
the  south  end  of  the  ruin  which  is  first  attained,  trees  hide  the 
northern  walls;  yet  the  view  is  beautiful.  The  space  covered 
by  the  building  is  four  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  long, 
eighty  feet  high  in  front,  and  eighty  feet  deep  in  the  center. 
One  hundred  and  twenty-four  rooms  have  been  traced  out  on 
the  ground  floor.  So  many  walls  have  fallen  that  it  is  difficult 
to  reconstruct  the  building  in  imagination ;  but  the  photographs 
show  that  there  must  have  been  several  stories  ;  thus  a  thousand 
persons  may  easily  have  lived  within  its  confines.  There  are 
towers  and  circular  rooms,  square  and  rectangular  enclosures, 
all  with  a  seeming  symmetry,  though  in  some  places  the  walls 
look  as  if  they  had  been  put  up  as  additions  in  later  periods. 
One  of  the  towers  is  barrel-shaped;  others  are  true  cylinders. 
The  diameter  of  one  circular  room,  or  estufa,  is  sixteen  feet 
and  six  inches ;  there  are  six  piers  in  it,  which  are  well 
plastered,  and  five  recess  holes,  which  appear  as  if  constructed 
for  shelves.  In  several  rooms  are  good  fireplaces.  One  of 


CLIFF-DWELLINGS  OF  MESA  VERDE  65 

our  party  built  a  fire  in  the  largest  one,  which  had  a  flue,  but 
found  the  draught  too  strong,  for  his  light  wood  came  near 
going  up  with  the  smoke.  In  another  room,  where  the  outer 
walls  have  fallen  away,  an  attempt  was  made  at  ornamenta- 
tion :  a  broad  band  had  been  painted  across  the  wall,  and 
above  it  is  a  peculiar  decoration  which  is  shown  in  one  of  the 
illustrations.  The  lines  were  similar  to  embellishment  on  the 
pottery  which  we  found.  In  one  place  corncobs  are  imbedded 
in  the  plaster  in  the  walls,  showing  that  the  cob  is  as  old  as 
that  portion  of  the  building.  The  cobs,  as  well  as  kernels 
of  corn  which  we  found,  are  of  small  size,  similar  to  what  the 
Ute  squaws  raise  now  without  irrigation.  Besides  corn,  it  is 
known  that  the  race  of  Cliff-Dwellers  raised  beans  and  squash ; 
we  frequently  picked  up  stems  of  the  latter.  It  is  not  known 
that  they  owned  domestic  animals,  but  they  had  turkeys.  We 
found  a  large  stone  mortar,  which  may  have  been  used  to 
grind  the  corn.  Broken  pottery  was  everywhere,  similar  to 
specimens  which  we  had  collected  in  among  the  valley  ruins, 
convincing  us  of  the  identity  of  the  builders  of  the  two  classes 
of  houses;  and  we  found  parts  of  skulls  and  bones,  fragments 
of  weapons,  and  pieces  of  cloth.  One  nearly  complete  skeleton 
lies  on  a  wall,  waiting  for  some  future  antiquarian.  The 
burial-place  of  the  clan  was  found  under  the  rear  of  the  cave. 

Notwithstanding  the  imposing  name  which  we  have  given 
it,  and  which  its  striking  appearance  seems  to  justify,  it  was 
a  communistic  dwelling.  There  is  no  hall  leading  through  it, 
and  no  signs  that  it  was  a  home  prepared  for  a  ruler  of  the 
people.  It  owes  its  beauty  principally  to  the  remains  of  two 
towers ;  it  probably  owes  its  magnitude  to  the  fact  that  the 
length  of  the  platform  and  depth  and  height  of  the  natural 
arch  allowed  of  such  a  building  in  such  a  remote  quarter. 

Naturally  this  huge  ruin  interested  us  as  much  as  anything 
that  we  met  with  in  our  trips.  It  deserves  study  by  expert 
archaeologists.  Thorough  and  careful  excavation  would  per- 
haps reveal  many  relics  which  might  throw  light  on  the  early 
history  of  the  primitive  inhabitants.  It  is  to  be  hoped,  how- 
ever, that  any  work  which  may  be  done  here  in  the  future  will 
be  carried  on  under  competent  supervision,  and  that  the  walls 
will  not  be  damaged  in  any  way.  Collectors,  so  far,  have  been 


66  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

very  thoughtful.  With  a  suitable  appropriation,  this  structure 
could  be  converted  into  a  museum,  and  be  filled  with  relics  of 
the  lost  people,  and  become  one  of  the  attractions  of  Southern 
Colorado.* 

This  suggestion  of  Mr.  Chapin  has  been  carried  out.  The 
government  has  restored  it  under  the  able  direction  of  Dr. 
Fewkes,  who  has  also  prepared  a  beautifully  illustrated 
Bulletin,  No.  41,  describing  the  ruin  in  detail,  and  it  is  now 
one  of  the  carefully-guarded  national  monuments  of  the 
public  domain.  This  and  a  companion  Bulletin,  No.  51,  one 
dealing  with  the  Cliff-Palace  and  the  other  with  the  Spruce- 
tree  House,  may  be  had  on  application  to  the  Superin- 
tendent of  Documents,  Washington,  D.  C.,  on  payment  of  a 
small  sum.  A  free  pamphlet  is  also  issued  by  the  govern- 
ment which  may  be  had  from  the  Superintendent  of  the 
Mesa  Verde  National  Park,  Mancos,  Colorado,  which  gives 
full  particulars  of  how  best  to  reach  and  see  all  the  antiquities 
of  this  fascinating  region. 

*  The  Land  of  the  Cliff -Dwellers,  by  F.  H.  Chapin.    W.  B.  Clarke  & 
Co.,  Boston,  1892. 


CHAPTER  VI 


ONE  of  the  most  fascinating  books  ever  written  on  the 
Southwest,  and  not  less  instructive  than  fascinating, 
is  Adolf  Bandelier's  The  Delight  Makers.  Unfortunately, 
it  is  now  out  of  print  —  a  reflection  upon  the  wisdom  and 
patriotism  of  the  people  of  the  United  States,  for  this  book 
should  be  read  and  studied  in  every  high  school  and  college 
in  the  land,  as  a  textbook  on  aboriginal  life.  In  its  preface 
Professor  Bandelier  says : 

The  greater  part  was  composed  in  1885,  at  Santa  Fe.  .  .  . 
I  was  prompted  to  perform  the  work  by  a  conviction  that  how- 
ever scientific  works  may  tell  the  truth  about  the  Indian,  they 
exercise  always  a  limited  influence  upon  the  general  public; 
and  to  that  public,  in  our  country  as  well  as  abroad,  the  Indian 
has  remained  as  good  as  unknown.  By  clothing  sober  facts  in 
the  garb  of  romance  I  have  hoped  to  make  the  "Truth  about 
the  Pueblo  Indians"  more  accessible  and  perhaps  more  ac- 
ceptable to  the  public  in  general. 

The  Delight  Makers,  themselves,  were  the  members  of  a 
society  of  fun-producers,  professional  clowns,  vaudeville 
performers,  whose  duty  it  was  to  create  amusement  for  the 
Indians  at  their  annual  festivities.  And  these  Indians  were 
among  the  number  of  the  cliff  and  cave-dwellers  of  the 
Southwest.  Their  home  was  in  the  mountains  some  twenty 
miles  west  of  Santa  Fe,  skirting  the  Rio  Grande  River. 

67 


63  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

While  the  mountains  appear  bald-crested,  dark,  and  forbid- 
ding, they  conceal  and  shelter  in  their  deep  gorges  and  clefts 
many  a  spot  of  great  natural  beauty,  surprisingly  picturesque, 
but  difficult  of  access.  From  the  river  these  canyons  can  be 
reached  only  by  dint  of  toilsome  climbing  and  clambering;  for 
their  western  openings  are  either  narrow  gaps,  or  access  to 
them  is  barred  by  colossal  walls  and  pillars  of  volcanic  rocks. 
The  entire  formation  of  the  chain,  as  far  as  it  faces  the  Rio 
Grande,  is  volcanic ;  the  walls  of  the  gorges  consisting  generally 
of  a  friable  white  or  yellowish  tufa  containing  nodules  of 
black,  translucent  obsidian.  The  rock  is  so  soft  that  in  many 
places  it  can  be  scooped  out  or  detached  with  the  most  primitive 
tools,  or  even  with  the  fingers  alone.  Owing  to  this  peculiarity 
the  slopes  exposed  to  the  south  and  east,  whence  most  of  the 
heavy  rains  strike  them,  are  invariably  abrupt,  and  often  even 
perpendicular;  whereas  the  opposite  declivities,  though  steep, 
still  afford  room  for  scanty  vegetation.  The  gorges  run  from 
west  to  east;  that  is,  they  descend  from  the  mountain  crests 
to  the  Rio  Grande,  cutting  the  long  and  narrow  pedestal  on 
which  the  high  summits  are  resting. 

Through  some  but  not  all  of  these  gorges  run  never- failing 
streams  of  clear  water.  In  a  few  instances  the  gorge  expands 
and  takes  the  proportions  of  a  narrow  vale.  Then  the  high 
timber  that  usually  skirts  the  rivulets  shrinks  to  detached 
groves,  and  patches  of  clear  land  appear,  which,  if  cultivated, 
would  afford  scanty  support  to  one  or  two  modern  families. 
To  the  village  Indian  such  tillable  spots  were  of  the  greatest 
value.  The  deep  ravine  afforded  shelter  not  only  against  the 
climate  but  against  roving  enemies,  and  the  land  was  sufficient 
for  his  modest  crops ;  since  his  wants  were  limited  and  game 
was  abundant. 

The  material  of  which  the  walls  of  these  canyons  are  com- 
posed, suggested  in  times  past  to  the  house-building  Indian 
the  idea  of  using  them  as  a  home.  The  tufa  and  pumice  stone 
are  so  friable  that,  as  we  have  said,  the  rock  can  be  dug  or 
burrowed  with  the  most  primitive  implements.  It  was  easier, 
in  fact,  to  excavate  dwellings  than  to  pile  up  walls  in  the 
open  air. 

Therefore  the  northern  sides  of  these  secluded  gorges  are 


LAND  OF  THE  DELIGHT  MAKERS  69 

perforated  in  many  places  by  openings  similar  in  appearance 
to  pigeon  holes.  These  openings  are  the  points  of  exit  and 
entrance  of  artificial  caves,  dug  out  by  sedentary  aborigines 
in  times  long  past.  They  are  met  with  in  clusters  of  as  many 
as  several  hundred ;  more  frequently,  however,  the  groups  are 
small.  Sometimes  two  or  more  tiers  of  caves  are  superim- 
posed. From  the  objects  scattered  about  and  in  the  cells,  and 
from  the  size  and  disposition  of  the  latter,  it  becomes  evident 
that  the  people  who  excavated  and  inhabited  them  were  on  the 
same  level  of  culture  as  the  so-called  Pueblo  Indian  of  New 
Mexico.* 

The  most  interesting  of  these  canyons,  and  the  cliff- 
dwellings  found  therein,  is  that  of  the  Rito  de  los  Frijoles. 
The  lower  five  miles  of  its  course  is  the  important  section, 
and  in  this  a  stretch  covering  less  than  two  miles  contains 
the  dwellings  we  are  to  visit.  The  northern  wall  of  the  Rito 
is  a  bold  escarpment  from  200  to  300  feet  in  height,  rising 
above  a  sloping  talus.  The  southern  wall,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  gently  sloping,  fairly  well  timbered  and  grassed, 
and  possesses  none  of  the  bold  mural  faces  that  characterize 
its  opposing  wall.  All  along  the  foot  of  this  northern  wall, 
for  a  mile  and  a  quarter,  extend  the  cliff-houses  of  the  people 
of  the  Delight  Makers.  On  the  floor  of  the  valley  are  the 
remains  of  four  great  community  houses,  possibly  some- 
thing after  the  style  of  those  we  have  seen  at  Taos,  though 
the  ground  plan  of  the  chief  one  shows  it  to  have  been  cir- 
cular in  form. 

This  circular  house,  known  as  the  Tyuonyi,  was  built  of 
blocks  of  volcanic  tufa,  regular  in  construction,  and  three 
stories  high,  the  three-storied  wall  outside,  and  the  ter- 
races thus  facing  the  inner  court.  Unlike  most  of  the  com- 

*  The  Delight  Makers,  by  A.  F.  Bandelier.    Dodd,  Mead  &  Co.,  New 
York,  1890. 


70  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

munity  houses  found  in  the  Southwest,  which  generally  are 
built  without  any  preconceived  plan,  being  added  to  as  cir- 
cumstances require,  this  gives  evidence  of  having  been  care- 
fully constructed  on  a  laid-out  scheme.  It  could  easily  and 
quickly  have  been  made  into  a  fortress,  for  the  only  en- 
trance to  the  inner  court  was  through  a  narrow  passageway 
on  the  eastern  side.  This  was  defended  with  a  double  sys- 
tem of  barricades,  and  on  an  emergency  could  have  been 
completely  closed  up. 

On  the  rim  of  the  mesa  above,  near  the  southern  brink 
of  the  canyon,  was  another  community  house,  so  the  indi- 
cations are  that  the  Rito  at  one  time  was  fairly  populous. 

Professor  Bandelier  thus  writes  of  the  Rito : 

The  Rito  is  a  beautiful  spot.  It  is  a  narrow  valley,  nowhere 
broader  than  half  a  mile;  and  from  where  it  begins  in  the 
west  to  where  it  closes  in  a  dark  and  gloomy  entrance,  scarcely 
wide  enough  for  two  men  to  pass  abreast,  in  the  east,  its  length 
does  not  exceed  six  miles.  Its  southern  rim  is  formed  by  the 
slope  of  a  timbered  mesa,  and  that  slope  is  partly  overgrown 
by  shrubbery.  The  northern  border  constitutes  a  line  of 
vertical  cliffs  of  yellowish  and  white  pumice,  projecting  and 
reentering  like  decorations  of  a  stage  —  now  perpendicular  and 
smooth  for  some  distance,  now  sweeping  back  in  the  shape  of 
an  arched  segment.  These  cliffs  vary  in  height,  although  no- 
where are  they  less  than  two  hundred  feet.  Their  tops  rise 
in  huge  pillars,  in  crags  and  pinnacles.  Brushwood  and  pine 
timber  crown  the  mesa  of  which  these  fantastic  projections  are 
but  the  shaggy  border. 

Through  the  vale  itself  rustles  the  clear  and  cool  brook  to 
which  the  name  of  Rito  de  los  Frijoles  is  applied.  It  meanders 
on,  hugging  the  southern  slope,  partly  through  open  spaces, 
partly  through  groves  of  timber,  and  again  past  tall  stately  pine 
trees  standing  isolated  in  the  valley.  Willows,  cherry  trees, 
cottonwoods,  and  elders  form  small  thickets  along  its  banks. 
The  Rito  is  a  permanent  streamlet  notwithstanding  its  small 


Courtesy  of  Denver  &  Rio  Grande  R.  R. 

RUINS  OF  PUYE 

PAJARITO   PARK,    NEW    MEXICO 


Courtesy  of  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology 

CAVE-DWELLING  RUINS  AT  PUYE 


LAND  OF  THE  DELIGHT  MAKERS  71 

size.     Its  water  freezes  in  winter,  but  it  never  dries  up  com- 
pletely during  the  summer  months. 

Bunches  of  tall  grass,  low  shrubbery,  and  cactus  grow  in 
the  open  spaces  between  rock  debris  fallen  from  above.  They 
also  cover  in  part  low  mounds  of  rubbish,  and  ruins  of  a  large 
pentagonal  building  erected  formerly  at  the  foot  of  a  slope 
leading  to  the  cliffs.  In  the  cliffs  themselves,  for  a  distance  of 
about  two  miles,  numerous  caves  dug  out  by  the  hand  of  man 
are  visible.  Some  of  these  are  yet  perfect ;  others  have  wholly 
crumbled  away  except  the  rear  wall.  From  a  distance  the 
portholes  and  indentations  appear  like  so  many  pigeons'  nests 
in  the  naked  rock.  Together  with  the  cavities  formed  by 
amygdaloid  chambers  and  crevices  caused  by  erosion,  they  give 
the  cliffs  the  appearance  of  a  huge,  irregular  honeycomb.* 

During  the  past  few  years  the  Society  of  American 
Archaeology  has  been  doing  considerable  excavation  work 
in  the  Rito  and  other  cliff-dwelling  canyons  of  the  Rio 
Grande  country.  It  has  become,  therefore,  the  one  spot  in 
this  portion  of  the  Southwest  where  the  life  and  culture  of 
the  Pueblo  Indians  of  the  past  can  best  be  studied.  With 
Professor  Bandelier's  book  in  hand,  after  a  brief  study  of 
the  ruins,  one  can  reconstruct  the  life  of  this  primitive  peo- 
ple. In  Chapter  vi  we  are  given  a  most  vivid  and  enter- 
taining picture  of  the  festival  occasion  in  which  the  Delight 
.Makers  especially  shone. 

See  the  procession  of  the  dancers.  They  approach  slowly, 
moving  with  a  rhythmic  shuffling-forward  of  the  feet,  kept 
in  time  by  the  penetrating  and  insistent  note  of  the  drum. 
Now  the  men  begin  to  leap  up  and  down  in  their  fantastic 
dance  step,  while  the  women  still  maintain  their  foot-shuff- 
ling progress.  All  are  tricked  out  in  their  gaudiest  finery, 
and  their  faces  and  the  partially  nude  bodies  of  the  men  are 

*  The  Delight  Makers,  pp.  3.  \ 


72  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

streaked,  splotched,  and  daubed  over  with  whitewash.  For 
some  time  a  chorus  of  men's  voices  has  been  heard,  strong, 
resonant,  untrained,  but  impressive  and  forceful.  They  fol- 
low the  dancers,  and  as  they  advance  they  gesticulate  with 
their  hands  and  arms,  as  if  seeking  to  interpret  the  words 
of  their  song.  The  drummer  is  an  old  man,  adorned  with 
an  eagle's  feather  behind  each  ear.  The  drum  is  made  of  a 
portion  of  a  hollow  tree,  over  each  end  of  which  green  raw- 
hide was  stretched,  the  two  ends  bound  together  with  lacing 
strips,  which,  when  dried,  tightened  the  drumhead  almost 
as  effectively  as  the  mechanical  methods  followed  today. 

The  whole  population  of  the  Rito  listens  to  this  primitive 
concert  and  watches  this  primitive  dance  with  profound 
interest,  the  spectators  crowded  on  the  roof  of  the  great 
terraced  house.  Bye  and  bye,  however,  they  begin  to  com- 
ment, critically  and  with  the  utmost  freedom,  upon  what 
they  see.  Everything  comes  in  for  their  scrutiny  and  verbal 
castigation.  Men  laugh,  jeer,  mimic,  and  poke  fun  and 
women  do  the  same,  selecting  any  one,  of  either  sex,  as  the 
object  of  their  humor. 

Suddenly  half  a  dozen  clowns,  stark  naked  save  for 
ragged  breech  clouts,  their  bodies  and  faces  daubed  as  are 
those  of  modern  clowns  in  a  circus,  come  running,  hopping, 
rolling,  stumbling,  capering,  frolicking  into  the  inner  court. 
They  are  greeted  with  laughter  and  boisterous  expressions 
of  mirth.  These  are  the  real  Delight  Makers,  whose  busi- 
ness it  is  to  make  fun  for  the  people.  To  attempt  to  describe 
their  rude,  often  coarse,  sallies,  their  jests,  horseplay,  grim- 
aces, practical  jokes,  mimicry,  foolery,  and  wild  capers 
would  occupy  many  pages. 

In  the  meantime,  in  the  sacred  underground  chamber,  the 


LAND  OF  THE  DELIGHT  MAKERS  73 

Kiva,  the  chief  medicine  man  is  preparing  the  altar  for  the 
prayers  of  this  festival  day.  The  dancing,  frolicking,  and 
fun  are  all  a  part  of  the  religious  ceremonies.  Rude,  foolish, 
ribald,  and  coarse  as  they  seem  to  us,  they  have  a  profound 
significance  to  this  religious  people.  These  frolics  help  to 
banish  gloom,  mourning,  evil  thoughts,  ill  will,  hatred  — 
hence  are  good  and  meet  with  the  approval  of  Those  Above. 
These  simple  people  firmly  believed  that  whoever  mourns 
or  harbors  ill  will  cannot  expect  his  task  to  prosper.  There- 
fore to  sow  a  field  of  corn,  beans,  melons,  or  squashes  with 
evil  in  his  heart  would  be  to  ensure  failure. 

Following  the  dance  the  more  formal  prayers  were  of- 
fered in  the  Kiva,  gifts  made  to  the  gods,  and  then  the  final 
dance  performed.  Here  is  Bandelier's  graphic  picture: 

The  singers  were  reinforced  by  several  aged  men  with 
snow-white  hair,  three  of  whom  wore  dark  wraps,  sleeveless 
and  covered  with  red  embroidery.  These  were  the  chief  peni- 
tents; those  without  badges  or  distinctive  dress,  the  principal 
shamans  (medicine  men)  of  the  tribe.  A  thrill  of  excitement 
ran  through  the  spectators ;  children  on  the  roofs  gathered  in 
groups,  moving  in  harmony  with  the  strong  rhythmic  noise 
below.  The  jesters  had  become  very  quiet;  they  went  about 
gravely  keeping  order,  for  the  court  was  now  filled  with  per- 
formers. The  green  headdresses  waved  like  reeds  before  the 
wind,  and  the  whole  space  looked  like  a  rhythmically  wafted 
cornfield.  When  the  dancers  were  executing  the  beautiful 
figure  of  the  planting  of  the  maize,  man  and  woman  bending 
outward  simultaneously,  each  one  to  his  side,  and  all  the  rattles 
sounding  as  if  upon  command  —  everything  around  was 
hushed;  everybody  looked  on  in  respectful  silence,  so  correct 
were  the  motions,  so  well-timed  and  so  impressive  the  sight.* 

Santa  Fe,  the  capital  city  of  New  Mexico  and  the  heart 
of  this  cliff-dwelling  region,  is  itself  a  fascinating,  romantic, 

*  The  Delight  Makers,  pp.  152,  153. 


74 

and  historic  place.  Redolent  of  memories  of  the  old  Con- 
quistador es,  it  owns  one  of  the  oldest  churches  in  the  United 
States,  and  is  the  proud  possessor  of  the  only  Governor's 
Palace  the  country  affords.  Walls  six  feet  thick  are  said  to 
cover  the  remnants  of  pueblo  houses,  with  their  conical  fire- 
places, corn  storages,  and  meal  bins,  and  the  old  beams  of 
the  ceiling  have  looked  down  upon  as  varied  and  remarkable 
a  history  as  any  room  in  America  has  had.  For  here  the 
Spanish  governors  lived  and  played,  worked  and  schemed, 
loved  and  hated,  slept  and  dreamed.  Here  came,  according 
to  Bandelier,  one  of  the  murderers  of  the  great  French 
explorer,  La  Salle.  Pursued  by  the  memory  of  his  hideous 
crime,  Jean  L'Archeveque,  the  French-Canadian  youth, 
wandered  from  the  scene  of  the  murder  on  Trinity  Bay, 
Texas,  to  this  out-of-the-way  spot,  where  he  was  engaged 
by  the  Spanish  governor,  and  lived  at  Santa  Clara  and  San 
Ildefonso,  until  a  violent  death  removed  him. 

What  bloody  scenes  were  witnessed  here  in  the  Pueblo 
Indian  rebellion  of  1680!  Pope,  an  aboriginal  patriot,  arose 
and  denounced  the  Spaniards,  but  went  farther.  He  was  a 
man  endued  with  the  military  spirit  of  action.  With  other 
brave  men  he  plotted  the  complete  overthrow  of  the  hated 
invaders,  and  set  the  day  for  the  uprising  that  should  cast 
them  forth  or  slay  them  —  men,  women,  and  children,  and 
especially  the  hated  long-gowns  —  the  Franciscan  friars. 
The  Spanish  governor,  Otermin,  got  news  of  the  plot  and 
it  was  partially  frustrated  in  that  the  patriots  were  forced 
to  a  premature  uprising.  But  it  was  fearfully  disastrous 
to  Spanish  rule.  Hundreds  were  slain,  and  from  1680  to 
1693,  when  Don  Diego  de  Vargas  reconquered  the  country, 
the  Pueblos  enjoyed  their  freedom.  There  was  another 


LAND  OF  THE  DELIGHT  MAKERS  75 

uprising  in  1696,  but  soon  thereafter  the  rule  of  the  Span- 
iards became  firm  and  the  Indians  have  never  since  been 
free.  The  old  palace  saw  governor  after  governor  of  both 
Spanish  and  Mexican  rule,  and  then  became  the  seat  of 
power  of  the  United  States.  Here  it  was  that  General  Lew 
Wallace  lived  for  a  while,  and  is  said  to  have  written  part 
of  his  great  novel,  Ben  Hur,  while  his  wife  wrote  interest- 
ingly if  not  accurately  of  the  Pueblos.  Today  this  historic 
building  is  appropriately  converted  into  a  State  Museum, 
and  is  one  of  the  places  that  all  travelers  to  the  Southwest 
should  visit. 


CHAPTER  VII 

CANYON  DE  CHELLY,  DEL  MUERTO  AND  MONU- 
MENT CANYONS,  AND  THEIR  RUINS 

FOR  years  this  French-appearing  name  has  been  one  to 
conjure  with  throughout  the  whole  Southwest.  It  has 
evoked  as  many  wonder  pictures  as  have  references  to  the 
Grand  Canyon  of  the  Colorado  River,  and,  in  the  very 
earliest  days  of  the  United  States'  occupancy  of  New  Mex- 
ico (which  included  what  is  now  Arizona)  it  thrilled  the 
heart  of  every  soldier  likely  to  be  called  upon  for  service  in 
the  region  because  of  its  unknown  mysteries.  We  do  not 
know  when  it  was  first  seen  by  the  white  man,  and  we  have 
no  record  that  the  Spaniards  ever  visited  it,  though  they 
reached  the  Hopi  villages,  comparatively  speaking  nearby, 
and  established  churches  there.  Possibly  trappers  —  those 
brave  pioneers  of  civilization,  whose  very  profession  makes 
them  keep  ahead  of  all  settled  populations  —  were  the  first 
to  bring  back  stories  of  Chelly  Canyon  and  its  wonders. 
Then,  when  the  gold  rush  to  California  attracted  men  from 
all  parts  of  the  world,  rumors  began  to  circulate  about  this 
wonderful  place,  in  wThich  lived  the  warlike  and  semi- 
nomadic  Navaho  Indians,  so  that  it  is  possible  that  some  of 
the  Utah  and  Arizona  Mormons  had  either  seen  or  heard 
of  them,  and  when  they  joined  the  rush  to  the  California 
gold  fields  told  their  stories  as  they  sought  to  while  away 
the  long  evenings  around  the  campfire.  Possibly  members 

76 


CANYON  DE  CHELLY  77 

of  the  Mormon  Battalion  that  formed  later  a  part  of 
Kearny's  Army  of  the  West,  that  marched  to  San  Diego  in 
1846,  had  visited  the  canyon  and  its  ruins,  for  the  Mormons 
early  reached  out  to  convert  the  Hopis  and  the  Navahos,  it 
being  thought  their  doctrine  of  polygamy  might  appeal  to 
them.  I  do  not  know  exactly  when  they  settled  near  the 
Hopi  farming  village  of  Moenkopi,  but  it  is  well  known  that 
they  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  land  and  springs  of  Tuba, 
the  Hopi  chief,  and  there  established  the  town  of  Tuba 
City,  where  they  were  brought  in  daily  contact  with  Navahos 
from  all  parts  of  the  country. 

Doniphan,  the  officer  in  charge  of  one  branch  of  this 
army  of  Kearny's,  received  the  following  order  Octo- 
ber 2,  1846: 

To  march  into  the  Navaho  country,  cause  all  the  prisoners, 
and  all  the  property  they  hold  which  may  have  been  stolen  from 
the  inhabitants  of  the  territory  of  New  Mexico,  to  be  given 
up;  and  he  will  require  of  them  such  security  for  their  future 
good  conduct,  as  he  may  think  ample  and  sufficient,  by  taking 
hostages  or  otherwise* 

Hughes's  account  of  this  expedition,  and  everything  con- 
nected with  it,  is  fascinating  reading  to  those  who  like  to 
know  the  early  history  of  our  western  wilds.  Major  Gilpin, 
who,  early  in  September,  had  been  sent  ahead  to  pacify  the 
border  tribes  of  Utah,  before  the  Doniphan  expedition  was 
deemed  necessary,  was  now  called  upon  by  Doniphan  to 
join  him.  In  so  doing  he  had  to  pass  the  mouth  of  the 
Chelly  Canyon.  Hughes  thus  refers  to  it : 

This  day  they  came  to  the  Challe  and  passed  within  a  few 
miles  of  the  celebrated  stronghold  or  presidio  (fort)  of  the 
Navahos,  called  El  Challe.f 

*  Doniphan's  Expedition.  \  Ibid. 


78  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

From  this  it  is  apparent  that,  already,  Canyon  de  Chelly 
had  a  widespread  reputation  as  the  site  of  a  great  fortress 
of  the  warlike  Navahos.  It  must  be  remembered  in  this 
connection  that  the  Americans  were  now  in  daily  contact 
with  the  Mexicans,  with  whom  the  Navahos  had  been  at 
war  since  the  days  of  the  coming  of  the  Spaniards,  three 
hundred  years  before.  To  the  Mexicans  the  Navahos  were 
sons  of  evil,  children  of  the  devil,  bugaboos  with  which  to 
frighten  their  children,  and  warriors  of  whom  all  save  the 
bravest  stood  in  honest  dread. 

Gilpin  arrived  at  the  place  appointed  for  rendezvous, 
Ojo  del  Oso  —  the  spring  of  the  bear  —  where  Fort  Win- 
gate,  New  Mexico,  now  stands,  on  November  20,  bringing 
many  professed  Navaho  chiefs  with  him.  Doniphan  ar- 
rived on  the  2 1st,  and  the  following  day  a  treaty  of  peace 
was  concluded  with  them. 

For  several  reasons,  however,  this  treaty  was  not  kept, 
and  the  Navahos  continued  their  hostile  raids  and  depreda- 
tions, stealing  with  equal  frequency  and  indifference  alike 
from  Indian,  Mexican,  and  American.  This  led  to  another 
expedition,  in  1849,  under  Lieutenant-Colonel  J.  M.  Wash- 
ington, of  which  Lieutenant  J.  H.  Simpson  was  a  member. 
He  thus  writes  of  Canyon  de  Chelly : 

This  canyon  has  been  for  a  long  time  of  distinguished  reputa- 
tion among  the  Mexicans,  on  account  of  its  great  depth  and 
impregnability  —  the  latter  being  not  more  due  to  its  inaccessi- 
bility than  to  the  fort  which  it  is  said  to  contain.  This  fort, 
according  to  Carravahal,  our  guide,  is  so  high  as  to  require  fif- 
teen ladders  to  scale  it,  seven  of  which,  as  he  says,  on  one 
occasion,  he  ascended;  but,  not  being  permitted  to  go  higher, 
he  did  not  see  the  top  of  it.* 

*  Report  of  Lieut.  J.  H.  Simpson  of  an  Expedition  into  the  Navaho 
Country,  Washington,  1850. 


Courtesy  of  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology 

MUMMY  CAVE,  CANYON  DE  CHELLY 


Courtesy  of  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology 

THE  WHITE  HOUSE 

CLIFF-DWELLINGS,  CANYON   DE  CHELLY 


CANYON  DE  CHELLY  79 

Simpson  and  his  party  went  quite  a  distance  up  the 
canyon,  but,  of  course,  found  no  fortress.  He  did  find 
something,  however,  of  great  interest  —  several  groups  of 
cliff-dwellings,  which  he  described,  thus  giving  to  the  world 
the  first  knowledge  obtained  of  these  human  residences, 
which  for  half  a  century  or  more  were  to  be  a  puzzle,  and 
marvel  to  the  world.  His  observations  are  so  important 
that  they  are  worthy  a  place,  entire,  in  this  chapter. 

Agreeably  to  the  orders  of  the  colonel  commanding,  I  left 
camp  at  7:30  this  morning  (September  8,  1849)  to  make  a 
reconnaissance  of  the  renowned  Canyon  of  the  Chelly.  In 
addition  to  my  two  assistants,  the  two  Kerns,  and  Mr.  Champ- 
lin,  there  were  in  the  company  an  escort  of  about  sixty  men. 

Reaching  the  mouth  of  the  Canyon  de  Chelly,  we  turned  to 
the  left  to  go  up  it.  Its  escarpment  walls  at  the  mouth  we 
found  low.  Its  bottom,  which  in  places  is  as  little  as  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide,  though  generally  as  wide  as  three 
or  four  hundred  feet,  is  a  heavy  sand.  The  escarpment  walls, 
which  are  a  red  amorphous  sandstone,  are  rather  friable,  and 
show  imperfect  seams  of  stratification;  the  dip  being  slight, 
and  towards  the  west. 

Proceeding  up  the  canyon,  the  walls  gradually  attain  a 
higher  altitude,  till,  at  about  three  miles  from  the  mouth,  they 
begin  to  assume  a  stupendous  appearance.  Almost  perfectly 
vertical,  they  look  as  if  they  had  been  chiseled  by  the  hand  of 
art;  and  occasionally  curious  marks,  apparently  the  effect  of 
the  rotary  attrition  of  contiguous  masses,  could  be  seen  upon 
their  faces. 

At  the  point  mentioned,  we  followed  up  a  left-hand  branch 
of  the  canyon ;  this  branch  being  from  one  hundred  and  fifty 
to  two  hundred  yards  wide,  and  the  enclosing  walls  continuing 
stupendous.  [Here  follows  a  short  description  of  a  side  can- 
yon, where  nothing  of  importance  is  seen.] 

Retracing  our  steps  to  the  primary  branch  we  had  left,  we 
followed  it  up  to  its  head,  which  we  found  but  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  above  the  fork,  the  side  walls  still  continuing 


80  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

stupendous,  and  some  fine  caves  being  visible  here  and  there 
within  them.  I  also  noticed  here  some  small  habitations,  made 
up  of  natural  overhanging  rock,  and  artificial  walls,  laid  in 
stone  and  mortar;  the  latter  forming  the  front  portion  of  the 
dwelling. 

Thus  is  heralded  in  American  literature  for  the  first  time 
the  cliff-dwellings.  The  soldier  in  Lieutenant  Simpson 
was  too  much  occupied  with  ideas  of  the  great  fort  of  the 
Navahos  to  realize  the  vast  importance  of  the  discovery  he 
was  making.  He  continues : 

Having  got  as  far  up  the  lateral  branches  as  we  could  go, 
and  not  yet  having  seen  the  famous  fort,  we  began  to  believe 
that,  in  all  probability,  it  would  turn  out  to  be  a  fable.  But 
still,  we  did  not  know  what  the  main  canyon  might  yet  unfold, 
and  so  we  returned  to  explore  it  above  the  point  or  fork  at 
which  we  had  left  it.  Starting  from  this  point,  our  general 
course  lay  about  southeast  by  east.  Half  a  mile  further,  or 
three  and  a  half  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  canyon,  on  its 
left  escarpment,  I  noticed  a  shelving  place  where  troops  (but 
not  pack  animals)  could  ascend  and  descend.  Less  than  a 
mile  further,  I  observed,  upon  a  shelf  in  the  left-hand  wall, 
some  fifty  feet  above  the  bottom  of  the  canyon  —  unapproach- 
able except  by  ladders,  the  wall  below  being  very  nearly  vertical 
—  a  small  pueblo  ruin,  of  a  style  of  structure  similar,  to  all 
appearances,  to  that  found  in  the  ruins  on  the  Chaco.  I  also 
noticed  in  it  a  circular  wall,  which,  in  all  probability,  has  been 
an  estuffa*  The  width  of  the  canyon  at  this  point  is  probably 
from  two  to  three  hundred  yards,  the  bottom  continuing  sandy 
and  level.  And,  what  appears  to  be  singular,  the  sides  of  the 
lateral  walls  are  not  only  as  vertical  as  natural  walls  can  well 
be  conceived  to  be,  but  they  are  perfectly  free  from  a  tallus 
of  debris,  the  usual  concomitant  of  rocks  of  this  description. 
Does  not  this  point  to  a  crack  or  natural  fissure  as  having  given 
origin  to  the  canyon,  rather  than  to  aqueous  agents,  which,  at 
least  at  the  present  period,  show  an  utter  inadequacy  as  a 
producing  cause  ? 

*Spanish,  estuja,  a  stone,  a  warm,  close  room.     The  Spanish  name 
given  to  the  Indian  kiva. 


CANYON  DE  CHELLY  81 

About  five  miles  from  the  mouth,  we  passed  another  col- 
lection of  uninhabited  houses,  perched  on  a  shelf  in  the  left- 
hand  wall.  Near  this  place,  in  the  bed  of  the  canyon,  I  noticed 
the  ordinary  Navaho  hut,  and  close  by  it  a  peach  orchard.  A 
mile  further,  observing  several  Navahos,  high  above  us,  on 
the  verge  of  the  north  wall,  shouting  and  gesticulating  as  if 
they  were  very  glad  to  see  us,  what  was  our  astonishment 
when  they  commenced  tripping  down  the  almost  vertical  wall 
before  them  as  nimbly  and  dexterously  as  minuet  dancers? 
Indeed,  the  force  of  gravity,  and  their  descent  upon  a  steep 
inclined  plane,  made  such  a  kind  of  performance  absolutely 
necessary  to  insure  their  equilibrium.  All  seemed  to  allow 
that  this  was  one  of  the  most  wonderful  feats  they  had  ever 
witnessed. 

Seven  miles  from  the  mouth,  we  fell  in  with  considerable 
pueblo  ruins.  These  ruins  are  on  the  left  or  north  side  of 
the  canyon,  a  portion  of  them  being  situated  at  the  foot  of 
the  escarpment  wall,  and  the  other  portion  some  fifty  feet 
above  the  bed  of  the  canyon.  The  wall  in  front  of  this  latter 
portion  being  vertical,  access  to  it  could  only  have  been  ob- 
tained by  means  of  ladders.  The  front  of  these  ruins  measures 
one  hundred  and  forty-five  feet,  and  their  depth  forty-five. 
The  style  of  structure  is  similar  to  that  of  the  pueblos  found 
on  the  Chaco;  the  building  material  being  of  small,  thin  sand- 
stones, from  two  to  four  inches  thick,  imbedded  in  mud  mortar, 
and  chinked  in  the  facade  with  small  stones.  The  present 
height  of  its  walls  is  about  eighteen  feet.  Its  rooms  are  ex- 
ceedingly small,  and  the  windows  only  a  foot  square.  One 
circular  estuffa  was  all  that  was  visible. 

Half  a  mile  above  these  ruins,  in  a  reentering  angle  of  the 
canyon,  on  its  left  side,  are  a  peach  orchard  and  some  Navaho 
lodges.  Proceeding  still  further  up  the  canyon,  the  walls, 
which  yet  preserve  their  red  sandstone  character,  but  which 
have  increased  in  the  magnificence  of  their  proportions,  at  in- 
tervals present  facades  hundreds  of  feet  in  length,  and  three 
or  four  hundred  in  height,  and  which  are  beautifully  smooth 
and  vertical.  These  walls  look  as  if  they  had  been  erected  by 
the  hand  of  art  —  the  blocks  of  stone  composing  them  not 
unfrequently  discovering  a  length  in  the  wall  of  hundreds  of 


82  OUR  A M ERIC 'AN  WONDERLANDS 

feet,  and  a  thickness  of  as  much  as  ten  feet,  and  laid  with  as 
much  precision,  and  showing  as  handsome  and  well-pointed 
and  regular  horizontal  joints,  as  can  be  seen  in  the  custom- 
house of  the  City  of  New  York.  .  .  . 

Having  ascended  the  canyon  nine  and  a  half  miles,  the 
horses  of  the  Pueblos  in  company  with  us  not  being  strong 
enough  for  a  further  exploration,  there  being  no  prospect  of 
our  seeing  the  much-talked-of  presidio  or  fort  of  the  Navahos, 
which  had  all  along  been  represented  to  us  as  being  near  the 
mouth  of  the  canyon,  and  the  reconnaissance  having  already 
been  conducted  further  than  Colonel  Washington  had  antici- 
pated would  be  found  necessary,  the  expedition  returned  to 
camp,  highly  delighted  with  what  they  had  seen.  We  found, 
however,  the  further  we  ascended  it,  the  greater  became  the 
altitude  of  its  enclosing  walls;  this  altitude,  at  our  point  of' 
returning,  being  (as  I  ascertained  by  an  indirect  measurement) 
five  hundred  and  two  feet.  The  length  of  the  canyon  is  prob- 
ably about  twenty-five  miles.  Its  average  width,  as  far  as  we 
ascended  it,  may  be  estimated  at  two  hundred  yards.  .  .  . 

Should  it  ever  be  necessary  to  send  troops  up  this  canyon, 
no  obstruction  would  be  found  to  prevent  the  passage  of 
artillery  along  its  bottom.  And  should  it  at  the  same  time, 
which  is  not  at  all  unlikely,  be  necessary  that  a  force  should 
skirt  the  heights  above  to  drive  off  assailants  from  that  quar- 
ter, the  south  bank  should  be  preferred,  because  less  inter- 
rupted by  lateral  branch  canyons. 

The  mystery  of  the  Canyon  of  Chelly  is  now,  in  all  proba- 
bility solved.  This  canyon  is,  indeed,  a  wonderful  exhibition 
of  nature,  and  will  always  command  the  admiration  of  its 
votaries,  as  it  will  the  attention  of  geologists.  But  the  hitherto 
entertained  notion  that  it  contained  a  high  insulated  plateau 
fort  near  its  mouth,  to  which  Navahos  resorted  in  times  of 
danger,  is  exploded.  That  they  may  have  had  heights  upon 
the  side  walls  of  the  canyon,  to  scale  which  would  require  a 
series  of  fourteen  ladders,  is  indeed  probable;  for  it  would 
require  more  than  this  number  to  surmount  the  height  we 
measured.* 

*  Simpson's  Report. 


CANYON  DE  CHELLY  83 

Like  the  treaties  that  preceded  it,  this  one  of  Colonel 
Washington's  was  soon  ignored  and  things  went  on  from 
bad  to  worse  until  1863,  when  General  Carleton  was  sent 
to  grapple  with  the  problem.  He  called  upon  Kit  Carson 
and  the  two  solved  it  in  stern,  military  fashion.  The  Nava- 
hos  were  rounded  up,  willy-nilly,  and  sent  to  Bosque 
Redondo,  in  New  Mexico,  and  there  kept  until  their  spirit 
and  insolence  was  crushed.  In  the  expedition  one  of  Kit 
Carson's  officers  made  a  complete  trip  through  De  Chelly, 
and  from  his  report  it  is  evident  they  were  all  alike  (Carle- 
ton,  Carson,  and  the  rest)  ignorant  of  Lieutenant  Simpson's 
destruction  of  the  fortress  myth.  But,  although  from  that 
day  nothing  further  has  been  heard  of  the  Navahos'  fort, 
it  was  left  for  the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology  to  make 
an  accurate,  complete,  and  scientific  survey  of  the  canyon. 
In  1882-3,  Colonel  Stevenson  and  Cosmos  Mindeleff  studied 
it,  and  in  1895,  in  the  Sixteenth  Annual  Report,  the  latter 
gives  a  detailed  account  which  is  reliable  and  standard. 

While  in  the  early  days  Canyon  de  Chelly  was  noted  for 
its  inaccessibility,  times  have  materially  changed  it  in  this 
regard.  The  traveler  from  the  southeast  or  west  may  ride 
in  comfort  in  his  Pullman  on  the  main  line  of  the  Santa  Fe 
to  Gallup,  New  Mexico,  and  from  there,  in  an  automobile 
journey  with  ease,  in  good  weather,  to  the  mouth  of  the 
canyon.  Those  who  come  from  the  north  merely  travel  a 
little  further  around,  for  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  Rail- 
way connects  with  the  Santa  Fe  at  the  old  capital  city  of 
the  same  name,  and  thus  Gallup  is  easily  reached.  On  the 
other  hand  the  automobile  traveler  merely  prepares  for 
extra  sandy  and  rough  roads,  and  pushes  along. 

At  Chin  Lee,  where  the  United  States  Indian  Department 


84  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

has  a  school,  two  or  three  trading  stores  and  the  mission  of 
the  Franciscan  Fathers  is  located,  change  should  be  made 
to  wagon  or  horseback. 

The  main  canyon  is  twenty  miles  long.  It  is  known  to 
the  Navahos  as  Tse-gi.  It  heads  near  Washington  Pass, 
within  a  few  miles  of  the  crest  of  the  Tunicha  Mountains, 
and  extends  almost  due  west  to  the  Chin  Lee  Valley. 

About  three  miles  from  its  mouth  De  Chelly  is  joined  by 
another  canyon,  almost  as  long,  which,  heading  also  in  the 
Tunicha  mountains,  comes  in  from  the  northeast.  It  is  over 
fifteen  miles  long,  and  is  called  on  the  map  Canyon  del  Muerto ; 
the  Navaho  know  it  as  En^a-tse-gi.  About  thirteen  miles 
above  the  mouth  of  the  main  canyon  a  small  branch  comes  in 
from  the  southeast.  It  is  about  ten  miles  long,  and  has  been 
called  Monument  Canyon,  on  account  of  the  number  of  up- 
right natural  pinnacles  of  rock  in  it.  In  addition  to  those 
named,  there  are  innumerable  small  branches,  ranging  in  size 
from  deep  coves  to  real  canyons  a  mile  or  two  long.  Outside 
of  De  Chelly,  and  independent  of  it,  there  is  a  little  canyon 
about  four  miles  long,  called  Tse-on-i-tso-si  by  the  Navaho. 
At  one  point  near  its  head  it  approaches  so  near  to  De  Chelly 
that  but  a  few  feet  of  rock  separate  them.* 

While  perennial  springs  supply  plenty  of  water  to  both 
Del  Muerto  and  Chelly  Canyons,  the  sand  is  so  deep  that 
only  during  the  time  of  the  autumn  and  winter  rains  and  in 
the  spring  when  the  mountain  snows  are  melting  is  there 
sufficient  to  enable  it  to  flow  to  the  mouth.  The  sands 
absorb  it.  But  water  can  always  be  found  by  making  a 
shallow  hole  in  the  sand.  This  is  the  method  followed  by 
the  Navahos,  who  still  reside  in  fairly  large  numbers  in  the 
main  canyons  and  their  larger  branches. 

At  its  mouth  Chelly  is  about  500  feet  wide,  and  while 

*  Mindeleff  in  the  Sixteenth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnol- 
ogy, p.  85. 


CANYON  DE  CHELLY  85 

there  is  considerable  variation  all  the  way  to  the  head,  it 
preserves  a  fairly  uniform  width.  In  a  few  places  it  becomes 
as  narrow  as  300  feet.  The  walls  are  of  a  brilliant  red 
sandstone,  weather-streaked  black  and  gray  coming  from 
above. 

Both  it  and  Del  Muerto  are  winding  and  tortuous,  and 
the  latter  is  much  narrower  than  De  Chelly,  there  being 
places  where  one  can  almost  throw  a  stone  across  it. 

At  the  mouth  the  walls  are  not  more  than  twenty  to 
thirty  feet  high,  descending  vertically  to  a  bed  of  loose 
white  sand,  and  absolutely  free  from  talus.  This  latter  is  a 
noticeable  feature  most  of  the  way  up  the  canyon,  though 
there  are  places  where  masses  occur,  its  absence  doubtless 
being  accounted  for  by  disintegration  and  washing  away  by 
flood  waters. 

Del  Muerto  enters  De  Chelly  through  so  narrow  a  pass, 
with  walls  over  200  feet  high,  that  one  might  easily  overlook 
the  mouth  and  take  it  for  an  alcove.  The  ascent  of  the  walls 
is  so  gradual  that  it  is  no  wonder  the  ordinary  observer  is 
deceived  by  them  and  exaggerates  their  height.  In  my  own 
case,  as  I  drove  along  in  the  wagon  generously  loaned  by 
my  friends  of  the  Franciscan  Mission,  and  stretched  out  to 
sleep  on  the  rocks  at  night  by  the  side  of  my  Navaho  guide, 
I  could  well  understand  how  J.  H.  Beadle,  whose  Western 
Wilds  had  always  given  me  much  pleasure,  was  led  to  his 
extravagant  statements.  He  entered  it  from  above,  by  Bat 
Canyon,  and  speaks  of  the  first  descent  as  1,100  feet.  Later 
he  tells  of  cliff-dwellings  1,500  feet  above  the  canyon  bed, 
and  perhaps  three  hundred  feet  below  the  summit.  He  thus 
describes  a  wonderful  pinnacle  or  needle  that  stands  out 
from  the  main  cliff  at  the  junction  with  Monument  Canyon. 


86  OUR  AM ERIC 'AN  WONDERLANDS 

There  is  another  on  the  other  side,  and  the  two  have  been 
named  "  The  Captains."  The  height  of  the  taller  of  the  two 
has  been  variously  estimated  at  from  1,200  to  2,500  feet. 
In  reality  it  is  less  than  800.  Beadle  says: 

But  the  most  remarkable  and  unaccountable  feature  of  the 
locality  is  where  the  canyons  meet.  There  stands  out  one 
hundred  feet  from  the  point,  entirely  isolated,  a  vast  leaning 
rock  tower  at  least  1,200  feet  high  and  not  over  200  thick  at 
the  base,  as  if  it  had  originally  been  the  sharp  termination  of 
the  cliff  and  been  broken  off  and  shoved  farther  out.  It 
almost  seems  that  one  must  be  mistaken,  that  it  must  have 
some  connection  with  the  cliff,  until  one  goes  around  it  and 
finds  it  100  feet  or  more  from  the  former.  It  leans  at  an  angle 
from  the  perpendicular  of  at  least  fifteen  degrees;  and  lying 
down  at  the  base  on  the  under  side,  by  the  best  sighting  I 
could  make,  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  opposite  upper  edge  was 
directly  over  me  —  that  is  to  say,  mechanically  speaking,  its 
center  of  gravity  barely  falls  within  the  base,  and  a  heave 
of  only  a  yard  or  two  more  would  cause  it  to  topple  over.* 

In  Canyons  de  Chelly  and  Del  Muerto  a  great  number  of 
cliff-dwellings  and  ruins  of  four  general  types  have  been 
found,  the  principal  of  which  are  known  as  the  Casa  Blanca, 
Antelope,  and  Mummy  Cave  ruins.  They  add  great  interest 
to  a  trip  which  is  full  of  scenic  and  ethnologic  wonder, 
though  it  is  impossible  here  to  do  more  than  merely  refer 
to  their  existence.  To  those  who  are  interested  in  their 
study  reference  is  made  to  Mindeleff's  comprehensive  mono- 
graph, and  my  own  speedily  forthcoming  work,  The  Pre- 
historic Cliff-Dwellings  of  the  Southwest. 

*  The  Undeveloped  West,  or  Five  Years  in  the  Territories,  by  J.  H. 
Beadle,  p.  552. 


p^-  -  '^ '/•*'. 

h  :mi/^^C1      «*% 

Cour/wji  o/  5"a>ifa  Fe  /?>•.  Co. 

CANYON  DE  CHELLY  MONUMENT 


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CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  NAVAHOS  AND  THEIR  REMARKABLE   FIRE 

DANCE 

THE  Navaho  and  the  Apache  are  one  and  the  same 
people,  though  so  long  separated  and  living  apart  that 
I  suppose  we  should  now  call  them  cousins.  They  are  the 
same  fearless,  warlike,  independent  race,  proud  and  haughty, 
considering  themselves,  as  their  own  name  implies  (Dene, 
the  people),  the  most  important  people  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  Just  when  they  came  into  Arizona  is  not  known.  By 
language  and  customs  they  prove  themselves  to  be  allied  to 
the  great  Athabascan  family  of  the  far-away  North,  in 
Alaska,  and  all  their  traditions  attribute  a  northern  origin 
to  their  ancestors. 

When  the  Spaniards  came,  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  they  found  the  Navahos  securely  entrenched  in 
their  present  locations.  They  had  no  villages,  however,  like 
the  Pueblos,  and  were  semi-nomads,  hence  they  offered  no 
strong  inducements,  as  did  the  former,  for  active  missionary 
work  among  them.  They  had  no  strong  central  organiza- 
tion, but  were  composed  of  bands,  each  in  a  measure  under 
the  control  of  a  chief  whose  power  was  somewhat  uncertain 
and  temporary,  for  they  were  too  independent  to  submit  to 
a  control  they  did  not  choose.  Once  in  a  while  a  few  of 
these  separate  bands  would  unite  for  some  definite  object, 
as  a  great  raid  upon  their  enemies  or  a  far-away  hunt  in  a 

87 


88  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

hostile  country,  but  there  was  no  organized  coherent  federa- 
tion amongst  them,  as  was  found  among  the  Iroquois  of  the 
East  when  the  white  man  first  discovered  them. 

Their  nomad  character  did  not  seem  to  be  provocative  of 
good  habits,  for  they  occasionally  raided  their  Pueblo  neigh- 
bors and  stole  from  them  all  the  corn,  squash,  melons,  buck- 
skin, and  other  treasures  these  home-loving  people  had  stored 
away.  It  was  such  raids  as  this,  rather  than  any  relentless 
warfare,  as  we  moderns  understand  the  term,  that  led  the 
ancestors  of  the  present  Pueblos  to  build  their  fortresses  on 
the  Verde,  their  cliff-dwellings  that  were  hard  to  approach, 
and  their  vast  community  houses,  where  a  whole  people 
could  rush  for  protection  on  the  approach  of  danger. 

When  the  Spaniards  arrived  with  their  flocks  of  sheep 
and  goats,  their  horses  and  cows,  their  seeds  of  wheat,  of 
peaches,  etc.,  the  Navahos  were  not  long  in  learning  the 
advantages  of  these  new  introductions.  The  newcomers 
were  not  many,  and  the  Navahos  could  not  understand  how 
the  Pueblos  could  so  easily  bow  their  necks  to  the  yoke  of 
the  foreigner.  They  were  patient  enough  until  they  learned 
the  flavor  of  roast  mutton,  the  value  of  a  horse,  mule,  and 
burro  as  beasts  of  transportation  and  carriers  of  burdens, 
the  wonderful  addition  to  their  weaving  material  for  blan- 
kets the  wool  of  the  sheep  afforded,  and  other  things  the 
Spaniards  were  glad  to  teach,  and  then  their  normal  habits 
broke  forth. 

The  Spaniard  became  the  object  of  their  raids,  as  well  as 
Hcpi,  Zuni,  and  Acoma,  and  when  the  Spanish  and  Mexican 
colonists  settled  on  lands  they  had  for  centuries  regarded  as 
their  own,  bitter  hatred  was  added  which  gave  an  additional 
intensity  and  even  ferocity  to  their  attacks.  The  result  was 


THE  NAVAHOS  89 

that  for  over  two  hundred  years,  prior  to  the  seizure  of 
Arizona  and  New  Mexico  by  the  United  States,  the  Navaho 
had  been  regarded  as  the  scourge  of  the  plains.  He  was  the 
Ishmael  of  the  desert;  every  man's  hand  was  against  him, 
and  his  against  them.  There  is  not  a  Mexican  family  in 
New  Mexico  or  Arizona  which  dates  back  to  "the  days 
before  the  Gringo  came,"  that  had  not  lost  one  or  several  of 
its  members  in  some  conflict  with  these  ever-ready  foes.  I 
could  point  out  a  score  or  more  of  Arizona  landmarks  which 
are  reminders  of  bloody  struggles  between  the  advance 
guards  of  civilization  and  these  aboriginal  savages.  Yet, 
according  to  their  own  standards,  and  even  from  ours,  in 
many  respects,  they  were  a  fine  race.  They  were  honest 
among  themselves,  chaste  to  a  rare  degree,  though  polyga- 
mous, industrious  as  far  as  they  knew,  fairly  truthful,  fond 
of  their  children,  the  most  hospitable  people  in  the  world, 
and  religious  beyond  the  white  man's  conception. 

It  is  very  amusing  to  read,  even  in  such  learned  publica- 
tions as  the  reports  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  some  of 
the  first  estimates  United  States  officers  and  others  made  of 
the  Navaho.  I  could  easily  fill  up  this  chapter  with  untruth- 
ful and  foolish  characterizations  and  silly  guesswork  that 
led  to  the  loss  of  many  a  life,  and  cost  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  dollars  to  the  United  States  government  before  we 
learned  wisdom.  The  subject,  however,  is  too  large  for 
more  than  a  hint  here.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  when  General 
Kearny  took  possession  of  the  land,  in  1846,  when  war  was 
declared  against  Mexico,  we  naturally  inherited  with  the 
Mexicans  and  the  Navahos  the  feuds  that  had  existed  for 
so  many  generations  between  them.  Not  understanding  the 
situation,  our  government  ordered  its  officers  to  make  trea- 


90  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

ties  with  the  various  Indian  tribes,  the  Navahos  among  the 
number. 

There  can  be  no  question  but  that  the  Navahos  regarded 
this  treaty-making  as  a  weakness.  Nor  could  they  under- 
stand why  the  Americans  should  come  and  make  war  upon 
the  Mexicans  of  New  Mexico  and  yet  refuse  to  allow  them 
to  continue  their  own  warfare  with  them  until  they  had 
evened  up  all  scores.  One  of  their  chiefs  thus  addressed 
Colonel  Doniphan,  when,  in  November,  1846,  he  was  con- 
cluding a  treaty  with  them : 

Americans!  You  have  a  strange  cause  of  war  against  the 
Navahos.  We  have  waged  war  against  the  New  Mexicans 
for  several  years.  We  have  plundered  their  villages  and 
killed  many  of  their  people,  and  made  many  prisoners.  We 
had  just  cause  for  all  this.  You  have  lately  commenced  a 
war  against  the  same  people.  You  are  powerful.  You  have 
great  guns  and  many  brave  soldiers.  You  have  therefore  con- 
quered them,  the  very  thing  we  have  been  attempting  to  do 
for  so  many  years.  You  now  turn  upon  us  for  attempting  to 
do  what  you  have  done  yourselves.  We  cannot  see  why  you 
have  cause  of  quarrel  with  us  for  fighting  the  New  Mexicans 
on  the  west,  while  you  do  the  same  thing  on  the  east.  Look 
how  matters  stand.  This  is  our  war.  We  have  more  right 
to  complain  of  you  for  interfering  in  our  war,  than  you  have 
to  quarrel  with  us  for  continuing  a  war  we  had  begun  long 
before  you  got  here.  If  you  will  act  justly,  you  will  allow 
us  to  settle  our  own  differences. 

This,  of  course,  our  government  could  not  do,  so  we 
became  the  object  of  the  Navahos'  vengeance  as  well  as  the 
Mexicans'.  Yet  the  authorities  demanded  treaties  rather 
than  arrest  and  condign  punishment  of  the  offenders. 

The  Navahos  had  no  objection.  They  knew  nothing  of 
the  United  States.  They  knew  and  cared  less  about  treaties. 


THE  NAVAHOS  91 

They  merely  saw  another  chance  for  more  effective  raids, 
and  would  leave  the  treaty  tent  to  go  and  steal  the  very 
mules  from  under  the  noses  of  the  soldiers  who  had  stood 
by  and  heard  their  professions  of  friendship  for  the  United 
States. 

This  aroused  the  ire  of  Uncle  Sam,  but  he  still  coun- 
seled "treaty."  It  was  about  this  time  that  rumors  reached 
the  ears  of  the  Americans  of  the  Canyon  de  Chelly,  a  won- 
derful, natural  fortress  of  the  Navahos,  in  the  heart  of  their 
wild,  barren,  and  inaccessible  country ;  where  they  had  con- 
structed an  absolutely  impregnable  fortress  scores,  hundreds 
of  feet  high.  This  canyon,  with  its  companion  gorges,  forms 
the  subject  of  the  preceding  chapter. 

The  United  States  soldiers  soon  exploded  the  idea  of  the 
"impregnable  fortress,"  by  marching  through  Canyon  de 
Chelly.  But,  somehow,  it  persisted  in  the  minds  of  the 
people  of  New  Mexico,  so  long  as  the  Navahos  held  their 
power  and  persisted  in  their  noxious  raids  and  secret  mur- 
ders. At  last  a  genuine  Indian  fighter  was  put  after  them. 
This  was  in  1863.  General  Carleton  had  a  different  method 
of  handling  the  Indians  from  that  followed  by  his  prede- 
cessors. He  placed  the  redoubtable  Kit  Carson  in  charge 
of  operations  and  bade  him  "  round  up  "  all  the  Navahos 
who  did  not  come  in  and  surrender.  Kit  did  the  work  with 
frontiersman-like  completeness.  He  wasted  few  words. 
Those  Navahos  who  professed  friendliness  were  required  to 
come  in  within  a  certain  length  of  time  (a  very  short  time) 
or  they  were  treated  as  enemies.  In  a  few  months  the 
arrogant,  impudent,  and  overbearing  attitude  of  the  Nava- 
hos was  completely  crushed,  their  marauding  ceased,  and 
their  raids  a  thing  of  the  past.  They  had  learned  the  power 


92  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

of  the  United  States  and  the  severity  of  its  punishment  when 
it  really  meant  business. 

Since  then  the  Navahos  have  been  fairly  well  behaved, 
have  prospered  wonderfully  in  material  things,  and  have 
increased  and  multiplied  both  in  their  flocks  and  herds  as 
well  as  in  their  own  population.  They  make  annually  from 
three-quarters  of  a  million  to  a  million  dollars'  worth  of 
blankets;  they  ship  hundreds  of  thousands  of  pounds  of 
wool,  pelts,  and  hides;  their  pinion  nut  crops  are  also  val- 
uable, and  they  trade  with  other  tribes  their  sturdy  little 
ponies  for  food,  baskets,  pottery,  buckskin,  and  other  abo- 
riginal articles  of  commerce. 

Yet  in  spite  of  their  constant  association  with  the  white 
man  they  retain  most  (if  not  all)  of  their  ancient  rites  and 
ceremonies  —  many,  varied,  complex,  and  wonderful. 

For  years  it  was  thought  that  the  Navahos  had  no 
religious  ceremonies  to  amount  to  anything,  for  they  were 
more  shy,  reserved,  and  self-contained  than  any  others  of 
the  North  American  aborigines.  Then  it  was  found  they 
had  many  ceremonies,  the  most  marvelous  of  which  is  called 
the  Mountain  Chant.  In  this  chant,  which  is  a  ceremony  of 
many  days'  and  nights'  duration,  the  last  night  is  devoted 
to  a  public  performance  of  a  variety  of  "acts."  Early  in 
the  evening  the  first  fire  dance  occurs,  called  the  Nahikai- 
alil,  which  signifies  "it  becomes  white  again."  Imagine  a 
corral  or  enclosure,  about  120  feet  in  diameter.  In  the 
center  a  great  bonfire  blazing  and  sparkling.  Suddenly  a 
dozen  naked  Navahos,  their  bodies  painted  white,  so  that 
they  appear  like  living  statues,  march  into  the  enclosure. 
Each  carries  in  his  hand  a  wand  tipped  with  eagle  down. 
After  twice  circling  around  the  fire  they  begin  to  thrust 


Courtesy  of  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology 

NAVAHO  FIRE  DANCE 


Courtesy  of  Bureau  of  American  EtJinology 

CORRAL  IN  WHICH  FIRE  DANCE  IS  HELD 


NAVAHO  TYPES 


THE  NAVAHOS  93 

their  wands  towards  it  with  the  clearly  shown  object  of 
burning  off  the  eagle  down.  Then,  for  half  an  hour  or  so, 
this  object  is  pursued,  the  intense  heat  of  the  fire  rendering 
it  impossible  to  get  near  enough.  But  gradually  working 
each  other  to  a  frenzy,  the  dancers  get  nearer  and  nearer 
until,  at  last,  one,  making  a  wild  plunge  and  gliding  for- 
ward on  his  body,  succeeds  in  setting  his  plume  on  fire. 
Frantically  the  others  plunge  nearer  and  one  after  the  other 
accomplishes  the  same  result. 

Now,  with  yells  and  cries,  each  seeks  to  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  the  onlookers,  and  by  pretended  occult  or  mysterious 
powers  brings  back  the  burned  off  plume,  making  it  "  become 
white  again"  —  hence  the  name  of  the  dance. 

Following  this,  exhibitions  of  arrow-swallowing,  Katchina 
dancing,  feather  conjuring,  and  the  making  of  a  yucca  grow 
fill  up  the  night  until  as  dawn  approaches  there  comes  the 
great  Fire  Dance.  The  naked  dancers,  whitewashed,  appear 
again,  each  man  carrying  in  his  hands  a  bunch  of  shredded 
cedar  bark.  After  four  times  dancing  around  the  fire,  wav- 
ing their  bark  towards  it,  the  leader  sets  his  bunch  on  fire 
and  all  his  followers  do  the  same.  Now  follows  a  scene 
that  beggars  description.  Rushing  wildly  after  each  other 
around  the  fire,  the  rapid  racing  causes  the  brands  to  throw 
out  long  brilliant  streamers  or  banners  of  flame  over  the 
arms  and  bodies  of  the  participants,  and  reaching  to  the  one 
next  behind.  Then,  with  wild,  piercing  yells,  each  one  seeks 
to  catch  the  man  ahead  of  him  and  sponge  him  down  with 
the  flaming  brands.  No  man  ever  turns  around  to  see  what 
is  being  done  to  him,  but  vigorously  rubs  the  flame  onto  the 
man  ahead,  occasionally  giving  him  vigorous  blows  with  the 
flaming  bark.  If  a  dancer  stands  alone  he  sponges  himself 


94  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

up  and  down  until  he  is.  able  to  catch  up  with  the  man  ahead. 
When  the  bark  is  so  far  consumed  that  it  can  be  no  longer 
held  the  dancer  drops  it  and  retires  from  the  corral.  Thus, 
one  by  one,  they  all  depart,  when  the  Navaho  spectators  step 
up,  pick  up  the  still  smouldering  fragments,  and  rub  their 
hands  with  them.  This  is  supposed  to  be  a  great  charm, 
especially  against  the  evil  effects  of  fire. 

While  the  description  above  given  is  brief,  it  must  not  be 
supposed  the  ceremony  is  over  speedily.  It  takes  a  long 
time.  It  is  fully  described  in  the  Fifth  Report  of  the  Bureau 
of  American  Ethnology,  and  ranks  with  the  Hopi  Snake 
Dance  as  one  of  the  most  thrilling  aboriginal  ceremonies 
known  to  the  white  race. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  TERRACED  HOUSES  OF  THE  RIO   GRANDE 

THESE  have  been  somewhat  referred  to  in  the  chap- 
ters on  Taos,  Zuni,  Acoma,  and  Hopi,  but  this  book 
would  be  incomplete  did  it  not  suggest  the  great  pleasure 
that  may  be  derived  from  a  visit  to  all  the  pueblos  of  the  Rio 
Grande  and  its  tributaries.  One  can  get  good  tastes  of  these 
without  leaving  the  main  line  of  the  Santa  Fe,  as,  for 
instance,  at  Santo  Domingo,  a  few  miles  east  of  Albuquer- 
que; Isleta,  twelve  and  one-half  miles  to  the  west,  and  at 
Laguna. 

At  the  first  named,  however,  the  casual  traveler  will  not 
be  welcomed.  All  the  shy,  haughty,  and  determined  reserve 
of  the  centuries  seems  to  be  enshrined  in  these  people,  and 
they  plainly  show  they  not  only  do  not  want  visitors,  but 
will  do  all  they  can  to  discourage  them. 

But  at  Isleta  it  is  quite  different;  there  as  a  rule  one  is 
welcomed. 

No  person  merely  passing  by,  or  through,  this  Indian 
pueblo  could  conceive  the  many  wonderful  things  that  exist 
within  those  rude  adobe  walls.  Here  is  a  republic  as  per- 
fect in  constitution  and  government  as  our  own  boasted 
national  political  establishment.  A  governor,  lieutenant- 
governor,  sheriff,  assistant  sheriff,  secretary  of  war,  and  a 
board  of  prindpales  control  the  destinies  of  the  little  town, 
where  1,200  human  beings  dwell  in  peace,  industry,  and 

95 


96  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

domestic  happiness.  They  are  citizens  of  the  United  States, 
according  to  the  treaty  of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo,  made  between 
our  government  and  Mexico,  but  they  have  never  exercised 
their  privileges,  and  possibly  would  not  be  allowed  to  if 
they  were  to  try,  yet  they  understand  popular  government, 
and  were  old  in  its  usages  before  our  government  was 
dreamed  of;  aye,  before  the  ship  of  Leif  Ericsson  was 
landed  on  the  shores  of  this  continent,  or  Columbus  was 
born.  And  they  have  never  heard  of,  nor  in  their  simple 
honesty,  conceived  of,  Tammany  Halls,  convention  bosses, 
wire-pullings,  fixing  of  voters,  malfeasance  in  office,  polit- 
ical bribery  and  corruption;  or  such  principles  as  "to  the 
victors  belong  the  spoils." 

Isleta  is  a  picturesque  little  town,  but  it  is  only  after  a 
study  of  its  people  that  the  full  charm  of  the  place  is  re- 
vealed. The  customs  of  the  Indians  are  so  simple  and 
quaint,  and  yet  so  full  of  meaning,  that  one  is  fascinated 
more  and  more  as  he  becomes  acquainted  with  them.  I  was 
present  at  the  funeral  of  an  old  Indian  woman  who  had 
died  quite  suddenly  on  one  of  the  fiesta  days.  The  bell 
tolled.  Then  the  old  sacristan  left  the  church,  and,  carrying 
a  large  gilded  cross,  followed  the  priest  in  his  sacred  robes, 
with  candle-bearer,  and  others  who  carried  a  canvas-cot  bier 
to  the  house  of  the  dead. 

The  secret  ceremonies  of  the  tribe,  to  which  no  white 
stranger  is  admitted,  had  already  taken  place  within. 

Soon  loud  wailing  was  heard,  and  the  procession,  consid- 
erably augmented,  left  the  house  and  crossed  the  plaza  on 
its  way  to  the  churchyard.  On  the  bier  was  the  body  of  the 
dead  woman,  robed  in  her  ordinary  dress,  with  face  exposed. 
Her  family  and  friends  followed,  weeping  and  crying  pit- 


TERRACED  HOUSES  97 

eously.  After  a  brief  ceremony  in  the  church  and  at  the 
graveside,  the  body  was  lowered  into  the  earth,  and  the 
mourners,  seizing  the  shovels,  began  to  throw  the  loose  dirt 
upon  the  body  and  uncovered  face.  In  her  ringers  was 
placed  a  prayer-stick  to  keep  away  the  evil  spirits. 

And  there  she  must  remain,  not  to  be  visited  again  until 
La  Fiesta  de  los  Muertos  —  the  day  of  the  feast  of  the  dead. 
This  occurs  but  once  a  year,  and  is  a  sight  to  be  witnessed. 
After  the  ringing  of  the  bell,  the  women  march  into  the 
churchyard,  bearing  upon  their  heads  baskets  filled  with 
such  food  as  the  deceased  loved.  Placing  the  baskets  upon 
the  graves,  they  light  candles  and  stand  them  around  the 
baskets,  kneeling  reverently  and  patiently  at  prayer,  while 
the  dead  one  is  supposed  to  feast  upon  the  provisions.  Tears 
furtively  stream  down  the  cheeks  of  each  mourner  as  she 
recalls  the  virtues  and  affection  of  the  deceased,  for  one  of 
the  marked  traits  of  the  Indian  character  is  their  intense 
devotion  to  each  other. 

In  the  church  the  same  proceedings  are  transpiring,  for 
many  have  been  buried  in  those  time-honored  walls.  Now 
the  priest  enters,  and  in  an  impressive  manner  recites  the 
office  of  the  mass  for  the  dead,  then  the  sacristan,  carry- 
ing the  bowl  of  holy  water,  the  blessing  of  the  graves 
is  given,  and  the  needed  sprinkling  with  the  agua  bendita. 
As  each  grave  is  blessed  and  duly  sprinkled  the  patient 
kneeler  arises  and  carries  her  basket  away.  The  dead  have 
had  their  feast,  and  now  it  is  the  padre's  turn,  for,  all  that 
is  left  is  taken  to  his  storeroom  as  his  perquisite.  And 
none  but  these  simple-minded  Indians  can  see  that  there  is 
not  a  particle  of  food  the  less  in  the  basket,  after  the  dead 
have  taken  their  fill.  But  they  are  satisfied,  and  returning 


98  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

to  their  homes  they  leave  the  dead  in  peace  and  fasting  for 
another  year. 

The  Isletans  own  patented  lands  to  the  extent  of  over 
a  hundred  and  fifteen  thousand  acres,  and  their  gardens, 
vineyards,  orchards,  alfalfa  fields,  and  pastures,  all  well- 
irrigated  and  thoroughly  cultivated,  demonstrate  agricul- 
tural and  horticultural  ability  equal  to,  and  often  surpassing, 
that  of  more  pretentious,  because  "  civilized,"  farmers  and 
gardeners.  They  now  ship  fruit  —  peaches,  apricots,  melons, 
and  grapes  —  to  points  as  far  west  as  the  Needles,  and  to  Las 
Vegas  and  beyond,  in  the  East.  Nor  did  they  learn  these 
things  from  us.  We  cannot  lay  that  flattering  unction  to 
our  souls.  They  tilled  the  soil,  irrigated  their  farms,  built 
their  three,  four,  and  six-storied  houses,  governed  them- 
selves truly  as  republics,  made  their  own  clothes  —  modest, 
neat,  and  picturesque  —  made  glazed  pottery  and  con- 
structed their  own  implements  and  furniture,  before  ever 
our  ancestors  had  dreamed  of  their  existence. 

Laguna  is  the  second  pueblo  of  importance  west  of  Albu- 
querque, reached  by  the  Santa  Fe.  It  is  perched  on  a  slight 
sandstone  eminence  overlooking  the  San  Jose  River,  and 
between  this  knoll  and  the  stream  curves  the  railway  track, 
directly  under  the  shadow  of  some  of  the  houses.  These 
are  generally  of  one  story,  though  there  are  some  of  two 
or  three  stories.  A  striking  house,  seen  from  the  station, 
is  that  of  Paisano,  the  Governor.  It  is  a  large  building 
of  stone  and  adobe,  whitewashed,  and  fronted  with  a 
"portico,"  the  columns  being  of  barked  juniper  trunks. 
Being  somewhat  progressive,  Paisano  has  added  doors  to 
his  house,  windows  of  glass,  and  a  modern  cookstove.  The 
governor  stands  midway  between  those  who  might  be 


Courtesy  of  Santa  Fe  Ry.  Co. 

SAN  ILDEFONSO,  NEW  MEXICO 


Copyright  by  George  Wharton  James 

PUEBLO  FUNERAL  PROCESSION 


TERRACED  HOUSES  99 

termed  the  conservatives  —  those  who  do  not  wish  to  for- 
sake the  ancient  customs  —  and  the  radicals,  those  who  are 
desirous  of  emulating  all  that  is  good  in  the  white  man. 
For  these  two  classes  are  far  more  distinctly  marked  than 
one  would  conceive,  and  there  is  much  enmity  manifested 
toward  those  who  are  too  progressive  in  spirit.  Still, 
Laguna,  being  on  the  line  of  the  railway,  and  its  citizens 
having  for  many  years  been  in  contact  with  three  cultured 
and  educated  Americans  who  have  lived  and  intermarried 
with  them,  and  many  of  the  children  having  attended  school 
at  Albuquerque  and  Carlisle,  as  well  as  the  Government 
School  in  their  own  pueblo,  it  is  a  much  more  modernized 
town  than  any  other  that  is  found  anywhere  near  the  line 
of  the  railroad. 

If  one  is  fortunate  enough  to  be  present  at  the  Pahs-cot z-e 
or  Corn  Dance  of  the  tribe,  which  occurs  in  September,  he 
will  see  a  sight  he  never  dreamed  of.  The  housetops,  over- 
looking the  dance-plaza,  are  crowded  with  spectators  decked 
out  in  all  their  most  gorgeous  and  brilliant  finery.  Beneath, 
are  thirty  or  forty  men,  besmeared  with  red  and  other 
pigments,  half-naked  and  crowned  with  a  plume  of  eagle 
feathers.  Up  and  down,  to  and  fro,  they  hop,  wheeling 
and  marching  to  the  music  of  a  vocal  chorus  aided  by 
several  tombes,  or  drums,  whose  monotonous  torn,  torn, 
strikes  the  ear  in  strange  contrast  to  the  ever-changing 
sight  that  meets  the  eye. 

Laguna  was  founded  by  refugees  from  Acoma  and  three 
other  pueblos  in  1699,  and  is  therefore  over  200  years  old. 
It  was  the  latest  of  the  pueblos  to  be  founded. 

On  the  Rio  Grande  there  are  several  pueblos,  including 
Tesuque,  nine  miles  from  the  city  of  Santa  Fe ;  Santa  Ana, 


100  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Sia,  and  Jemez,  reached  from  Bernalillo,  on  the  Santa  Fe 
line;  Nambe,  nineteen  miles;  Pojuaque,  five  miles  beyond 
Nambe,  and  now  abandoned;  San  Ildefonso;  San  Juan; 
Santa  Clara,  and  Picuris.  Several  of  these  have  been 
described  and  their  environment  vividly  pictured  in  Marah 
Ellis  Ryan's  novel,  The  Flute  of  the  Gods.  By  reading  this 
fascinating  story  one  can  learn  much  of  the  inwardness  of 
Indian  thought  and  religion,  and  also  of  their  history  since 
the  coming  of  the  Spaniards.  Other  interesting  books  are 
Lummis's  The  Land  of  Poco  Tiempo,  and  Charles  Francis 
Saunders's  Indians  of  the  Terraced  Houses;  while  in  Mrs. 
Matilda  Coxe  Stevenson's  masterly  and  scientific  story,  The 
Sia,  to  be  found  in  the  Twelfth  Annual  Report  of  the 
Bureau  of  'American  Ethnology,  one  sees  their  daily  life 
as  vividly  as  though  one  were  actually  living  next  door 
neighbor  to  them. 


CHAPTER  X 

BY  THE  ENCHANTED  MESA  TO  THE  CITY  OF 
THE  SKY 

A  FEW  hours'  ride  past  Albuquerque,  New  Mexico, 
on  the  main  line  of  the  Santa  Fe  Railway,  one  reaches 
Laguna  Indian  pueblo.  Making  this  his  point  of  departure, 
one  may  travel  south  into  a  land  of  enchantment,  a  veritable 
land  of  wizardry  and  necromancy;  a  land  where  rocks  and 
sand  and  trees  and  sky  play  such  tricks  upon  the  mind  as 
imagination  has  never  before  conjured  up;  and,  also,  a 
land  where  the  inhabitants  believe  as  thoroughly  in  witches 
and  charms,  and  are  as  afraid  and  terrified  by  them  as 
children  who  see  "  bogies  "  in  the  dark. 

Crossing  the  little  creek  of  San  Jose,  passing  over,  by, 
and  around  sandhills,  a  splendid  valley  is  soon  reached 
which  is  a  revelation  of  glory  and  splendor  seldom  seen. 
Vast  tablelands  of  solid  rock,  with  precipitous  walls  of 
creamy,  pink,  and  brick-red  sandstone,  rise  on  either  hand, 
crowned  with  dark-green  forests  of  pine,  pinion,  and  juni- 
per .  Directly  ahead,  almost  sheer  in  one's  path,  is  a  sublime 
mass  of  rock,  a  perfect  island,  rudely  triangular,  the  base 
of  the  triangle  facing  the  visitor,  rising  over  400  feet  in 
sheer,  precipitous  height.  There  are  towers,  peaks,  minarets, 
castles,  and  other  bizarre  forms,  some  of  gigantic  size,  on 
the  walls  all  around,  due  to  the  differential  erosion  of  the 
varying  densities  of  sandstone. 

101 


102  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Three  miles  further  on  is  the  present-day  site  of  Acoma, 
the  City  of  the  Sky,  where  these  aboriginal  people  have 
lived  in  historic  times,  ever  since  the  conquistadores  found 
them  there  nearly  400  years  ago.  But,  according  to  their 
traditions,  handed  down  from  father  to  son,  mother  to 
daughter,  through  the  ages,  time  was  when  their  ancestors 
lived  upon  this  other  mass  of  rock,  which  they  called 
Katzimo,  the  accursed;  or,  as  the  American  recorder  of 
the  tradition,  Charles  F.  Lummis,  termed  it,  The  Enchanted 
Mesa.  According  to  the  story,  the  heights  were  reached 
from  below  by  an  immense  shaft  or  sliver  of  rock  that, 
during  some  convulsion,  or  through  other  natural  causes, 
had  become  detached  from  the  face  of  the  cliff,  its  base 
resting  in  the  sandy  bed  which  surrounded  the  mesa,  and 
its  pinnacle  at  the  foot  of  a  rude  "  chute  "  or  narrow  groove 
of  erosion  which  sloped  up  to  the  mesa  top.  In  this  groove 
the  Indians  had  cut  foot  and  hand  holes  leading  to  the  rock 
shaft,  upon  which  they  had  continued  their  rude  and  primi- 
tive ladder  down  to  the  valley.  The  agricultural  fields  of 
the  Acomese  were  at  Acomita,  a  few  miles  away,  where 
water  from  San  Jose  Creek  was  available  for  irrigation  pur- 
poses, and  they  were  wont  to  go  down  en  masse  at  the 
bidding  of  their  Governor  to  do  the  necessary  field  work. 
On  one  occasion  the  herald  called  them  to  this  service  and 
all  went,  save  two  sick  women  and  two  lads  who  were  left 
to  care  for  them.  In  their  absence  a  torrential  storm  arose 
which  so  flooded  the  valley  that  the  sand  was  washed  away 
from  the  base  of  the  rock  and  it  fell  with  a  terrific  crash, 
thus  severing  all  connection  between  the  people  below  and 
their  homes  above.  The  ascent  was  made  impossible,  and 
alas,  also,  the  descent  of  the  helpless  ones  above  was  forbid- 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  SKY  103 

den,  and  in  the  agony  of  the  few  ensuing  days  those  below 
suffered  the  torture  of  knowing  that  their  loved  and  helpless 
ones  above  were  slowly  but  surely  starving  to  death. 

Sadly  and  reluctantly  they  left  the  accursed  place,  and 
ever  after  referred  to  their  former  home  as  Katzimo,  in  due 
time  establishing  their  pueblo  upon  the  present  site. 

While  somewhat  out  of  the  course  of  my  purpose,  it  will 
throw  added  interest  around  Katzimo  here  to  relate  in  brief 
a  great  discussion  that  arose  about  it  some  twenty  years 
or  so  ago.  In  relating  the  tradition,  Mr.  Lummis  guessed 
the  height  of  the  mesa  at  1,000  feet  *  and  stated  that  it  was 
proven  to  be  practically  inaccessible  save  by  the  flying  bird. 
Taking  this  statement  at  its  face  value,  Professor  William 
Libbey,  holding  the  chair  of  geography  at  Princeton  Uni- 
versity, decided  to  make  the  attempt  to  scale  it  with  a  life- 
saving  apparatus  and  a  boatswain's  chair.  Securing  the 
loan  of  these  appliances  from  officials  of  the  Federal  Gov- 
ernment, he  shipped  them  out  to  Laguna,  secured  assistance, 
and  hied  himself  to  Katzimo.  Unfortunately  for  him,  a 
newspaper  man  of  the  "  yellow  journal "  type  attached 
himself  to  the  party.  Arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  mesa,  a 
rope  was  shot  over  it  by  means  of  cannon.  By  this  rope 
stronger  tackle  was  hoisted  to  which  was  attached  a  life- 
saving  chair  used  to  convey  passengers  on  a  wrecked  vessel 
to  the  coast.  A  cursory  survey  of  the  summit  revealed 
no  ruins  of  houses,  no  remnants  of  mortars  or  appliances 
of  any  kind  —  though  Professor  Libbey  did  state,  after- 
wards, that  he  found,  or  saw,  a  few  small  potsherds  and 
other  evidences  of  human  presence.  These,  however,  were 

*  Major  Pradt,  the  engineer,  who  later  made  the  ascent  with   Pro- 
fessor Hodges,  found  it  to  be  431  feet. 


104  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

not  deemed  by  him  of  sufficient  importance  to  signify,  hence 
he  expressed  his  doubt  as  to  the  authenticity  of  the  tradi- 
tion. This  doubt  was  put  into  a  most  positive  avowal  of 
disbelief  in  the  press  dispatch  that  the  newspaper  man 
hastened  to  send  all  over  the  country. 

Mr.  Lummis  is  essentially  a  fighter,  and  this  dispatch 
aroused  his  keenest  ire.  A  controversy  was  started  which 
raged  with  angry  fierceness  and  into  which  Professor  F. 
W.  Hodge,  the  accomplished  ethnologist,  and  now  head  of 
the  Federal  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  and  myself 
were  both  drawn,  he  siding  with  Mr.  Lummis,  and  I  with 
Professor  Libbey.  Of  course,  with  Hodge's  authoritative 
backing,  the  other  side  doubtless  regarded  itself  as  unques- 
tioned victor,  but  we  are  still  unconvinced. 

So  the  visitor  may  gaze  longingly  upon  the  mesa  cliff 
and  summit  above  and  take  sides  as  his  inclination  dictates. 

The  present-day  site  of  Acoma  certainly  is  one  of  the 
most  picturesque  of  any  city  in  the  world.  At  first  sight 
the  cliff  walls  seem  as  inaccessible  and  inhospitable  as  those 
of  Katzimo.  One  might  circle  the  mesa  in  the  dusk  of 
evening  and  never  see  the  two  generally  used  trails  —  one 
for  horses,  the  other  cut  into  the  face  of  the  cliff,  where 
a  convenient  rift  or  crack  offers  friendly  assistance  for  the 
laying  of  tree  trunks  and  rocks  as  steps.  There  are  two 
other  trails,  however,  one  on  the  opposite  side,  caused  by 
drifted  sand  piled  up  almost  to  the  very  top,  and  the  other 
a  trail  cut  in  a  cleft,  which  few  white  men  have  ever  seen. 

It  was  in  1540  that  Coronado  and  his  conquistadores  first 
visited  Acoma.  Fifty  years  later  these  simple  and  free  sons 
of  the  City  of  the  Sky  swore  themselves  actual  vassals  to 
the  Crown  of  Spain,  under  Juan  de  Onate.  But  this  aroused 


INDIAN  PUEBLO  OF  LACUNA,  NEW  MEXICO 


STREET  IN  THE  PUEBLO  OF  ACOMA,  NEW  MEXICO 


THE  ENCHANTED  MESA 

FROM    THE   TOP   OF   THE  TRAIL  AT  ACOMA,    NEW    MEXICO 


DRIFTED  SAND,  ACOMA,  NEW  MEXICO 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  SKY  105 

the  fierce  enmity  and  patriotism  of  one  of  the  Acomese,  and 
he  tried  to  prevail  upon  the  warriors  to  open  resistance. 
Calmer  and  quieter  counsels  prevailed,  and  the  oaths  of 
fealty  were  taken. 

This  leader,  Zutucapan,  however,  was  not  to  be  denied, 
and  he  persuaded  twelve  warriors  to  unite  with  him  in  a 
secret  plot  to  kill  the  hated  Castillo.  These  twelve  were  to 
hide  in  a  kiva,  and  Zutucapan  was  to  so  ingratiate  himself 
with  Ofiate  that  when  he  asked  him  to  descend'  the  kiva  the 
latter  would  do  so  without  thought  of  fear  or  suspicion. 
Then  he  was  to  be  slain,  and,  naturally,  the  whole  of  the 
people  would  be  embroiled  in  war  and  compelled  to  defend 
themselves  against  an  exasperated  and  infuriated  foe. 

But  Zutucapan  failed.  Some  intuitive  sense  seems  to 
have  warned  Ofiate.  Without  any  conscious  recognition  of 
danger  he  refused  to  accept  the  wily  chief's  invitation,  and 
thus  his  life  was  saved. 

On  November  18,  however,  the  ever-alert  patriots  suc- 
ceeded, though  not  with  Ofiate.  The  latter's  chief  officer, 
Don  Juan  Zaldivar,  was  passing  by  Acoma  on  his  way  to 
unite  with  his  general  for  a  march  to  the  South  Sea  [the 
Pacific].  The  people  came  out  with  presents  and  profuse 
professions  of  loyalty  and  friendship.  On  being  asked  for 
supplies  they  offered  to  give  all  that  were  needed,  and  totally 
unsuspicious  that  any  treachery  was  intended,  Don  Juan 
sent  his  soldiers  to  different  parts  of  the  pueblo  to  gather 
the  provisions.  While  the  force  was  thus  scattered  the 
order  to  attack  was  given,  and  the  Indians  fell  to,  with 
hardy  lustiness,  upon  their  hated  foes.  For  three  hours  the 
fight  raged,  thirty  Spaniards  or  less  against  the  whole  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Acoma,  for  even  the  women  joined  in 


106  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

the  fight,  or  at  least  beat  the  tombes,  and  urged  on  their 
spouses  and  sons  to  greater  deeds  of  valor. 

Though  armed  with  the  best  of  Spanish  weapons,  fight- 
ing against  a  savage  foe  the  odds  were  too  great  and  one 
by  one  the  devoted  band  fell.  At  length  Zaldivar  him- 
self was  slain  by  the  heavy  war  club  of  the  fierce  Zutucapan, 
and  seeing  the  officer  killed  the  Acomese  shrieked  their  cry 
of  victory.  Disheartened  and  realizing  the  futility  of  further 
fight,  the  five  remaining  warriors  sprang  over  the  fearful 
precipice  to  the  plain  below,  and  providentially  four  of  them 
escaped  with  their  lives,  reached  the  horses,  and  dashed  off 
to  give  warning  to  the  missionaries  at  other  pueblos  of  the 
uprising.  One  man  rode  in  desperate  haste  after  Onate, 
and  the  heart-broken  remainder  returned  to  tell  the  sad 
tidings  of  their  defeat  to  the  wives,  children,  and  friends  of 
the  slaughtered  men. 

After  due  consideration  it  was  resolved  forthwith  to  visit 
condign  punishment  upon  the  rebels  —  as  they  were  termed. 
The  murdered  captain's  brother,  Vicente,  was  put  in  com- 
mand of  seventy  men  and  sent  forth  to  subjugate  the 
Acomese  and  bring  them  to  their  senses.  The  peaceably 
inclined  chiefs  had  counseled  the  removal  of  the  women  and 
children  from  Acoma,  but  the  party  of  Zutucapan  was  in  the 
ascendancy,  and  when  the  devoted  seventy  arrived  on  their 
mission  of  vengeance  they  were  greeted  with  fierce  yells, 
taunts,  and  insults. 

After  a  night  spent  in  wild  and  frenzied  dancing  by  the 
Indians  above,  and  by  the  Spaniards  in  preparation  and  rest 
below,  the  morning  dawned  ready  for  the  attack.  Don 
Vicente  knew  there  were  two  trails  up  which  he  could 
ascend.  Under  cover  of  night  he  had  accompanied  twelve 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  SKY  107 

of  his  men  to  the  more  hidden  trail,  while  the  main  body  — 
apparently  the  whole  force  —  marched  at  dawn  to  the  other. 
The  ruse  worked  perfectly.  Every  savage  warrior  on  the 
penyol  height  rushed  to  the  defense  of  the  main  trail. 
Vicente  and  his  gallant  twelve  ascended  in  safety  and, 
forcing  their  way  in,  divided  the  fight.  All  day  the  battle 
raged,  and  when  night-time  came  neither  Spaniards  nor 
Acomese  would  allow  themselves  to  rest.  Another  day  and 
part  of  a  third  were  spent  in  the  most  desperate  struggle. 
The  Spaniards  knew  they  were  not  only  fighting  for  their 
own  lives  but  for  the  success  of  the  whole  enterprise.  Fail- 
ure to  them  meant  the  abandonment  of  the  conquest,  at 
least  under  Onate's  auspices.  They  were  inured  to  fiercest 
hardships,  and  prepared  as  only  such  men  could  be  for  the 
terrible  strain  of  continuous  fighting.  Nerves  tenser  than 
finest  steel,  muscles  more  elastic  than  a  rubber  ball  —  the 
whole  physical  frame  hardened  to  endure  the  severest 
strains,  and  knowing  it  would  mean  death  in  its  worst  forms, 
followed  by  mutilations  too  horrible  to  contemplate,  unless 
they  were  successful,  this  brave  band  of  seventy  was  there 
to  conquer.  Back  and  forth  the  forces  swayed,  now  one, 
now  the  other,  gaining  a  little,  only  to  lose  it  by  a  fierce 
and  more  vigorous  onslaught.  Imagine  the  scene.  Dusky 
warriors,  nearly  naked,  but  painted  red  and  yellow  and 
made  generally  hideous  with  feathers  and  other  savage 
accouterments,  shouting,  yelling,  screaming,  and  raging, 
while  attacking  with  heavy  stone  axes,  hammers  and  flint 
knives,  spears  and  arrows.  Urging  them  on,  aiding  them, 
carrying  weapons  and  occasionally  using  them,  naked 
women,  fiercer  and  wilder  than  the  men,  more  vociferous 
in  their  yells  and  screams,  more  terrible  in  their  savage 


108  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

denunciations  and  imprecations  upon  the  hated  white  intru- 
ders than  were  .  the  men,  made  the  conflict  even  more 
terrible. 

At  last  discipline,  training  and  the  weapons  of  civiliza- 
tion triumphed,  and  the  bloody  conflict  was  at  an  end.  How 
many  Indians  were  slain  is  not  definitely  known.  Authori- 
ties differ,  some  saying  there  were  3,000,  some  6,000, 
Acomese,  when  the  battle  began,  but  all  agree  that  there 
were  only  600  left  at  the  close  of  this  desperate  three  days' 
fighting. 

Rather  than  be  captured  by  the  Spaniards  hundreds 
hurled  themselves  headlong  to  the  rocks  beneath,  scores 
deliberately  perished  in  the  flames  of  the  burning  houses, 
and  many  besought  their  friends  to  slay  them,  which  they 
did. 

History  like  this  makes  any  place  interesting,  but  espe- 
cially one  so  picturesque  and  attractively  located  as  Acoma. 
The  desperate  bravery  of  its  people  and  their  genuine 
patriotism  and  determination  to  expel  the  invader  were 
worthy  a  better  fate. 

But  Acoma  is  not  all  history  by  any  means.  Here  is 
scenery,  grand,  glorious,  inspirational.  It  is  a  place  of  won- 
ders, where  Nature  has  craftily  and  cunningly  worked  to 
produce  surprises.  Great  detached  pillars  of  rock,  a  hun- 
dred, two,  three  hundred  feet  high;  a  marvelous  natural 
bridge,  where  the  arch  of  the  curve  is  as  perfect  as  if  done 
by  a  mechanical  contrivance;  grotesque  and  startling  fig- 
ures that  might  be  gargoyles  on  a  Gargantuan  temple ;  but- 
tresses immeasurably  more  grand,  colossal,  and  majestic 
than  those  of  the  rock-hewn  temples  of  far-away  Abyssinia 
—  all  are  here,  carved  by  wind  and  storm,  sand  and  rain. 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  SKY  109 

The  horse  trail  leading  up  to  the  mesa  top  is  a  wonder  in 
itself.  Built  up  many  feet  in  two  or  three  places,  the  steps 
cut  out  of  the  solid  rock  in  others,  it  is  overtopped  with  two 
stupendously  massive  monuments  that  the  Indians  believe 
were  created  by  the  gods.  They  have  many  legends  about 
these  and  other  natural  objects  around  the  mesa,  and  happy 
is  that  visitor  who  can  succeed  in  obtaining  an  old  Indian 
willing  to  recite  these  "  stories  of  the  old,"  with  a  younger 
Indian  intelligent  and  honest  enough  properly  to  interpret 
them. 

Then,  too,  the  Acomese  preserve  many  of  their  ancient 
dances  and  other  ceremonies,  which  they  give  in  accordance 
with  their  ancient  calendar,  though  since  the  advent  of 
the  Franciscan  friars  these  are  all  more  or  less  tinged  with 
the  outer  ritualism  of  Catholicism. 

Their  patron  saint  is  San  Esteban  (St.  Stephen)  ;  so  on 
his  day,  September  3,  a  series  of  ceremonials,  the  like  of 
which  it  would  be  hard  to  find  elsewhere,  are  seriously  and 
earnestly  performed.  They  are  a  strange  mixture  of  Chris- 
tian ritual  and  pagan  dance.  Worship  of  the  sun,  recital 
of  the  prayers  of  the  Catholic  church,  and  invocations, 
singing  to  and  propitiation  of  "Those  Above,"  are  singu- 
larly commingled.  The  priest  celebrates  mass,  in  which 
caciques,  pueblo  governor,  council,  and  people  all  partake. 
To  me  a  most  affecting  part  of  the  ceremonials  is  the  sing- 
ing in  the  ancient  church  by  the  oldest  men  of  the  pueblo,  of 
hymns  undoubtedly  taught  to  them  when  children  by  the 
Spanish  priests,  or  by  their  parents,  who  had  learned  them 
from  these  devoted  missionaries. 

Now  and  again  one  may  see  a  dramatic  representation 
of  the  coming  of  Saint  James  to  Spain,  a  method  of  teach- 


110  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

ing  history  the  priests  found  well  adapted  to  the  mentality 
of  the  Indians. 

When  this  historic  representation  is  given,  the  Acomas 
assemble  on  horseback  at  the  foot  of  the  mesa  and  look 
earnestly  and  intently  along  the  dim  road,  as  if  in  eager 
expectancy  of  soon  seeing  some  one  appear.  After  a  long 
delay  a  man  is  seen  apparently  riding  a  diminutive  horse, 
and  accompanied  by  two  men  on  foot.  At  his  approach 
the  excitement  is  intense.  Songs  are  vociferously  sung,  the 
tombe  is  loudly  beaten,  the  church  bells  ring,  and  every 
man,  woman,  and  child  in  the  village  assembles  at  the  head 
of  the  trail  to  witness  the  triumphant  incoming  of  the 
stranger.  We  join  the  throng,  and  as  the  horseman  slowly 
ascends  the  trail  the  queer  pranks  and  capers  of  the  horse 
are  most  astonishing,  and  we  cannot  understand  them  till, 
on  closer  proximity,  we  discover  that  what  we  took  for  a 
horse  is  a  clever  dummy  fastened  to  the  body  of  the  man 
who  represents  St.  James,  and  that  the  peculiar  movements 
are  made  by  the  man  himself. 

The  following  day  high  mass  is  celebrated  in  the  church, 
St.  James  on  his  horse  and  all  the  village  being  present. 

Then  follows  the  procession.  It  is  similar  to  processions 
everywhere,  except  that  here  the  priest,  Mexicans,  and 
Indians,  all  take  part,  and  each  does  his  own  work  in 
his  own  way,  and  thus  adds  considerably  to  the  general 
interest. 

A  large  cross,  carried  by  one  of  the  leading  functionaries 
of  the  village,  went  ahead,  followed  by  the  governor,  the 
caciques,  the  principals,  and  the  "city  council."  Then, 
under  a  small  canopy  carried  by  four  swart  Indians,  was 
borne  the  wooden  statue  of  St.  Stephen,  followed  by  the 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  SKY  111 

padre,  in  full  canonicals,  and  devoutly  reading  his  ritual. 
Close  at  his  heels  came  a  chorus  of  forty  or  fifty  men,  the 
"drum  corps,"  and  then  the  men,  women,  and  children. 
They  paraded  the  whole  town  and,  as  the  Mexican  contin- 
gent joined  them,  one  of  their  number  bearing  an  accordion 
took  his  position  by  the  side  of  the  governor  and  began  to 
play.  Imagine  my  surprise  to  hear  the  strains  of  March- 
ing Through  Georgia,  and  finally,  when  a  most  solemn 
dirge  was  being  rendered  by  the  chorus,  to  hear  it  relieved 
by  the  touching  ballad,  played  in  most  pathetic  strains  on 
the  accordion,  After  the  Ball  Is  Over.  The  parade  com- 
pleted, the  wooden  image  of  St.  Stephen  was  deposited  in 
the  kisi,  a  small  booth  of  cottonwood  boughs,  in  which 
was  a  kind  of  rude  altar  and  a  bench  on  each  side.  Two 
guards,  armed  with  Winchester  rifles,  stood  one  on  each 
side  of  the  entrance  to  the  kisi,  and  the  governor  and 
principales  took  seats  on  the  benches.  Then,  during  the 
day,  the  devout  Indians  brought  their  thank  offerings  of 
melons,  meal,  corn,  etc.,  and  paid  their  devotions,  kneeling 
before  the  image. 

Then  the  dances  began.  Two  of  the  secret  societies  of 
the  village  took  part  in  these  ceremonies,  and  as  soon  as 
one  society  tired,  or  had  completed  its  portion  of  the  dance, 
the  other  advanced.  The  dances  took  place  in  the  main 
street  in  front  of  the  kisi,  the  chorus  standing  opposite, 
so  that  the  dancers  paraded  up  and  down  between  the 
singers  and  the  sacred  bower.  And  who  can  adequately 
describe  an  Indian  dance  ?  The  men  wore  a  kilt,  or  apron, 
reaching  from  loin  to  knees,  embroidered  and  fringed  gar- 
ters, and  moccasins.  Dependent  from  the  loins  at  the  back 
was  the  skin  of  the  silver-gray  fox,  and  around  both  arms 


112  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

above  the  elbow  were  tied  twigs  of  juniper  or  pine.  In 
the  left  hand  more  twigs  were  held,  while  in  the  right 
hand  was  the  whitewashed  gourd  rattle  used  in  all  cere- 
monial dances.  Around  each  forehead  was  the  inevitable 
handkerchief,  and  nearly  all  wore  a  shell  and  turquoise 
necklace.  Their  bodies  and  legs  were  perfectly  nude, 
painted  as  usual  with  an  oxide  of  iron.  The  women,  on 
the  other  hand,  were  bedecked  with  all  the  gorgeous  finery 
which  they  could  muster.  Jotsitz  (robe),  girdle,  moccasins, 
leggings,  necklaces,  etc.,  that  were  too  good  for  common 
use,  or  were  especially  made  for  this  great  occasion,  were 
donned,  and  in  addition,  a  peculiar  symbolic  headdress 
made  of  board  or  rawhide,  upon  which  figures  representing 
the  katchinas,  or  lesser  divinities,  were  painted.  To  and 
fro  they  danced,  the  men  two  together,  giving  the  singular 
hippety-hop  movement  peculiar  to  Indian  dances,  and  shak- 
ing their  rattles,  the  women,  likewise  in  twos,  following  in 
alternate  order,  gently  waving  the  bunches  of  wild  flowers 
they  held  in  their  hands,  and  shuffling  forward  with  their 
feet  as  the  men  hopped. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  street  stood  the  drums  and  the 
chorus,  the  leader  occasionally  making  gestures,  all  of 
which  were  imitated  by  the  singers  —  expressive  of  their 
thankfulness  and  invocation  to  "Those  Above." 

No  one  will  visit  Acoma  without  seeing  the  old  church. 
It  was  built  twenty  years  after  the  destruction  of  its  prede- 
cessor in  the  Great  Rebellion,  and  though  now  in  a  ruined 
condition,  is  a  most  remarkable  edifice.  It  covers  more 
ground  with  its  accompanying  buildings  than  any  modern 
cathedral  in  the  United  States,  and  its  graveyard  is  built 
up  at  one  end  by  a  wall  over  forty  feet  high,  and  the  whole 


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THE  CITY  OF  THE  SKY  113 

area  filled  in  with  earth  carried  up  in  blankets  by  the  women 
from  the  valley  beneath. 

The  Indians  have  dug  a  channel  down  the  center  of  the 
church.  It  is  to  let  the  rain  flow  out  after  a  storm,  for 
the  roof  leaks  sadly.  "  You  see,  it  is  so  much  easier  to  do 
this  than  to  put  on  a  new  roof,"  explained  the  governor, 
when  I  asked  him  what  the  channel  was  for.  Four  adobe 
steps  which  reach  across  the  whole  width  of  the  church 
lead  up  to  the  altar,  which  is  also  of  adobe.  The  adorn- 
ments behind  the  altar  are  a  fearful  and  wonderful  combi- 
nation of  carving  and  coloring.  In  the  place  of  honor  is  a 
quaint  and  peculiar  little  wooden  figure,  representing  St. 
Stephen,  although  many  have  thought  because  the  church 
was  dedicated  to  St.  Joseph  he,  and  not  Stephen,  was  the 
patron  saint  of  the  Acomese. 

On  the  wall  to  the  left  hang  two  pictures.  One  of  these 
is  the  celebrated  painting  of  St.  Joseph,  which  was  probably 
given  to  the  Acomese  by  Charles  n  of  Spain,  and  was  the 
occasion  of  such  quarrels  between  the  Acomese  and  the 
Lagunas,  that  ultimately  the  Supreme  Court  of  New  Mexico 
was  called  upon  to  settle  the  ownership.  Judge  Kirby 
Benedict,  acting  as  chancellor,  decided  in  favor  of  the 
Acomese.  The  case  was  appealed  and  the  supreme  judge 
affirmed  the  chancellor's  decision,  and  added : 

The  history  of  this  painting,  its  obscure  origin,  its  age,  and 
the  fierce  contests  which  these  two  Indian  pueblos  have  car- 
ried on,  bespeak  the  inappreciable  value  which  is  placed  upon 
it.  The  intrinsic  value  of  the  oil,  paint,  and  cloth  by  which 
San  Jose  is  represented  to  the  senses,  it  has  been  admitted  in 
argument,  would  not  exceed  twenty-five  cents ;  but  this  seem- 
ingly worthless  painting  has  well  nigh  cost  these  two  pueblos 
a  bloody  and  cruel  struggle,  and  had  it  not  been  for  weakness 


114 

on  the  part  of  one  of  the  pueblos,  its  history  might  have  been 
written  in  blood.  .  .  .  One  witness  swore  that  unless  San  Jose 
is  in  Acoma,  the  people  cannot  prevail  with  God.  All  these 
supposed  virtues  and  attributes  pertaining  to  this  saint,  and 
the  belief  that  the  throne  of  God  can  be  successfully  ap- 
proached only  through  him,  have  contributed  to  make  this  a 
case  of  deep  interest,  involving  a  portraiture  of  the  feelings, 
passions,  and  character  of  these  peculiar  people. 

But  Acoma  is  too  interesting  to  be  wholly  described  in 
a  few  pages.  That  the  intelligent  traveler  in  the  United 
States  should  make  this  a  part  of  his  itinerary  there  can 
be  no  question,  though,  as  yet,  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to 
secure  accommodations. 

The  best  plan  is  to  write  to  the  Santa  Fe  Passenger 
Department,  Railway  Exchange  Building,  Chicago,  for 
information,  and  then  to  Mr.  Robert  Marmon,  Laguna, 
New  Mexico,  to  see  if  he  will  provide  accommodations,  and 
take  or  send  the  prospective  tourist  to  Acoma. 

For  literature  he  should  read  Strange  Corners  of  Our 
Country,  The  Spanish  Pioneers,  and  The  Land  of  Poco 
Tiempo,  all  by  Charles  F.  Lummis. 


CHAPTER  XI 

OVER  THE  PAINTED  DESERT  TO  THE  HOPI 
SNAKE  DANCE 

THIS  is  a  camping-out  trip.  There  is  no  other  way  to 
make  it.  It  is  over  a  hot  and  sandy  desert,  with  the 
likelihood  of  sandstorms  or  rainstorms  at  any  hour  —  that 
is,  if  one  goes  at  the  time  the  Snake  Dance  is  to  be  per- 
formed. One  has  to  cross  the  Little  Colorado  River,  which 
sometimes  rises  six  to  ten  feet  overnight;  there  are  no 
accommodations  (in  the  sense  that  the  American  tourist 
regards  the  term)  ;  bedding,  provisions,  and  feed  for  the 
horses  must  be  taken  along;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  these  many 
disadvantages  and  discomforts,  each  year  sees  an  increas- 
ing crowd  cross  the  desert,  from  every  quarter,  in  order 
to  be  present  at  the  culminating  ceremonies  of  the  Hopis' 
prayer  for  rain,  known  as  the  Snake  Dance.  And  though 
I  myself  have  taken  the  refined  and  cultured  city  dwellers, 
women  as  well  as  men,  even  society  dames  used  to  all  the 
luxuries  that  our  sybaritic  life  affords,  I  have  yet  to  hear 
one  who  did  not  say  that  this  was  the  most  memorable  trip 
of  a  lifetime,  and  so  far  counterbalanced  the  hardships  and 
discomforts  as  to  render  them  inconsequential. 

The  old  Spaniards  who  first  saw  our  great  western  land 
certainly  were  poets  as  well  as  explorers  and  soldiers.  Their 
names  were  full  of  a  rich  poetry.  Think  of  calling  this 
wild  land  of  color  La  Desierto  Pintado  —  the  Painted 

115 


116  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Desert.  Yet  that  is  exactly  what  it  is.  A  vast  palette 
board,  on  which  vast  and  heroic  tubes  of  color  have  been 
squeezed  in  prodigal  profusion,  and  then  spread  over  the 
landscape  with  a  lavish  hand.  Here,  too,  are  gloriously 
impressive  mountains,  crowned  with  the  snows  of  blessing, 
and  bathed  in  a  wealth  of  glowing  colors,  changing  hues, 
and  tender  tints  that  few  have  ever  seen.  Yonder  is  a  nat- 
ural inkstand,  larger  than  a  tall  New  York  skyscraper,  from 
which,  centuries  ago,  flowed  fiery,  inky  lava,  which  has 
now  solidified  in  dense  blackness  over  scores  of  miles  of 
surrounding  country.  Hemming  it  in,  stand  mountain- 
high  plateaus,  edged  with  bluffs,  cliffs,  and  escarpments  that 
delight  the  eye  with  their  richness  of  coloring  and  won- 
drous variety  of  outline,  and  thrill  with  horror  those  who 
unexpectedly  come  upon  their  brinks. 

It  is  a  land  of  fantastic  carvings  and  rudely  sculptured 
images,  where  water,  wind,  storm,  sand,  frost,  heat,  atmos- 
phere, and  other  agencies,  unguided  and  uncontrolled  by 
man,  have  combined  to  make  figures  more  striking,  more 
real,  more  picturesque,  more  ugly,  more  beautiful,  and  more 
fantastic  than  those  of  the  angels,  devils,  saints,  and  sin- 
ners that  crown  and  adorn  the  ancient  pagan  shrines  of  the 
Orient,  and  the  modern  Christian  shrines  of  the  Occident. 

Here  sand  mountains,  yielding  alike  to  the  fierce  winds 
of  winter  and  the  gentle  breezes  of  summer,  slowly  travel 
from  place  to  place,  irresistibly  controlling  fresh  sites  and 
burying  all  that  obstructs  their  path. 

Once  there  were  vast  lakes,  in  some  portions  of  it,  in 
which  disported  ugly  monsters,  and  on  the  surface  of  which 
swam  mighty  fish-birds  who  gazed  with  curious  wonder 
upon  the  enormous  reptiles,  birds,  and  animals  which  came 


THE  HOPI  SNAKE  DANCE  117 

to  lave  themselves  in  the  cooling  waters.  Now  lakes,  fishes, 
reptiles,  birds,  and  animals  of  that  epoch  have  entirely  dis- 
appeared. Where  placid  lakes  once  were  lashed  into  fury 
by  angry  winds  are  now  only  sand  wastes  and  water-worn 
rocks  where  the  winds  howl  and  shriek  and  rave  and  mourn 
the  loss  of  the  waters  with  which  they  used  to  sport;  and 
the  only  reminders  of  the  prehistoric  fishes  and  reptiles 
are  found  in  decaying  bones  or  fossilized  remains  deep 
imbedded  in  the  strata  of  the  uncounted  years. 

It  is  a  land  where  at  one  time  volcanic  fires  and  fierce 
lava  flows,  accompanied  by  deadly  fumes,  noxious  gases, 
and  burning  flames,  have  made  lurid  the  midnight  skies 
and  driven  happy  people  from  their  peaceful  homes.  Yet, 
today,  a  mighty  river  roars  madly  in  its  confined  passage- 
way to  the  sea,  and  like  a  vampire  drains  the  whole  country- 
through  which  it  passes;  for,  a  few  miles  away  from  its 
brink,  a  spring  that  flows  a  few  buckets  of  water  in  an  hour 
is  an  inestimable  treasure.  In  actual  sight  of  this  river 
thirsty  men  have  hurled  themselves  headlong  down  thou- 
sand-feet-high precipices,  crazy  in  their  uncontrollable 
desire  to  reach  the  precious  and  inaccessible  stream. 

Hence  it  is  a  desert,  indeed,  and  yet  in  spots  it  is  marvel- 
ously  fertile,  for  there  are  rich  and  luxurious  valleys, 
wooded  slopes,  and  garden  patches  that  yield  abundantly 
of  fruit,  vegetables,  flowers,  and  trees. 

Here,  in  its  very  heart,  on  three  high  mesas,  or  table- 
lands of  rock,  which  are  thrust  out  like  fingers  of  a  mis- 
shapen and  mutilated  hand,  dwell  the  Hopi  Indians  —  the 
Hopituh  Shinumo  —  the  People  of  Peace.  The  mesas, 
rudely  speaking,  are  ten  miles  apart,  and  they  are  commonly 
spoken  of  as  the  Eastern,  Middle,  and  Western  Mesas;  or, 


118  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

counting  from  the  east,  the  first,  second,  and  third.  They 
are  from  500  to  800  feet  above  the  sandy  desert  beneath, 
where,  in  the  washes,  or  where  there  is  enough  subterranean 
water  for  irrigation,  the  Hopis  have  planted  out  their  small 
patches  of  corn,  which  they  cultivate  and  care  for  with 
pathetic  eagerness  and  watchfulness. 

While  their  home  locations  are  strikingly  picturesque, 
their  architecture  interesting,  their  social  customs  simple 
and  archaic,  it  is  undoubtedly  their  wonderful  religious 
ceremonial,  known  as  the  Snake  Dance,  that  has  made  the 
Hopi  people  famous  throughout  the  modern  world.  Like 
all  the  Pueblo  people,  the  Hopis  are  essentially  religious. 
Half  of  their  lives  are  spent  in  propitiating  their  diverse 
pantheon  of  gods,  half -gods,  and  mythical  beings,  whose 
influence  upon  their  lives  they  deem  to  be  most  potent. 
Dancing  is  one  form  of  propitiating  these  superior  beings. 
Smoking  is  another.  Prayer  still  another,  and  singing  com- 
bines with  dancing,  smoking,  and  prayer  to  make  the  peti- 
tions offered  more  effective.  The  result  is  that  the  Hopis 
have  a  calendar  of  ceremonies  of  such  extent  as  to  almost 
make  one  gasp.  From  four  to  sixteen  days  of  every  month 
are  employed  by  some  clan  or  other  —  day  and  night,  con- 
tinuously—  in  these  ceremonies,  each  of  which  has  a  dis- 
tinct significance,  as  is  demanded  by  the  "  gods  "  for  certain 
favors  to  be  bestowed,  the  control  of  certain  powers  that 
show  malignity,  or  the  like. 

The  Snake  Dance  is  by  far  the  most  famous  of  these 
ceremonies,  though  by  no  means  the  most  beautiful  and 
attractive.  It  has  been  called  by  a  large  assortment  of 
adjectives,  many  of  which  are  untrue  and  unjust.  The 
dance  has  been  characterized  as  "  a  wild  orgy  of  disgusting 


Photo  by  author 

BOPI  PUEBLO  OF  WALPL  ARIZONA 


Photo  by  A.  C.  Vroman 

ARCHWAY  IN  HOPI  PUEBLO 


Photo  by  author 


HOPI  PUEBLO  OF  ORAIBI,  ARIZONA 


Copyright  by  F.  H.  Maude 


MOKI  SNAKE  DANCE 


THE  HOPI  SNAKE  DANCE  119 

savagery,"  but  the  fact  is  that,  from  beginning  to  end,  it  is 
conducted  with  a  gravity,  a  calmness,  a  solemnity,  a  dignity 
that  is  not  surpassed  by  any  religious  ceremony  of  any 
church  of  the  modern  civilized  world.  Of  course  it  is 
barbaric,  and  its  strange  and  singular  elements  make  it  a 
wildly  superstitious  rite,  but  when  one  reasonably  under- 
stands the  legends  upon  which  it  is  based  it  becomes  a 
very  different  thing  from  that  which  it  appears  to  the  mere 
observer  who  sees  it  for  the  first  time. 

The  Snake  Dance  proper,  namely,  that  part  of  the  cere- 
monies witnessed  by  outsiders,  lasts  less  than  an  hour  on 
the  close  of  nine  days  of  secret  ritual  performed  in  the 
underground  kiva.  Whenever  ceremonies  are  about  to  be 
observed  in  the  kivas  certain  symbols  are  hung  upon  the 
ladder  poles  to  denote  the  fact,  and  woe  to  any  person  who 
dares  intrude,  even  so  far  as  to  put  his  foot  upon  the  roof 
of  the  sacred  place,  after  the  natchi  has  been  hung. 

In  this,  as  in  several  other  Hopi  rites,  two  clans  partici- 
pate. These  are  the  clan  or  family  of  the  Antelopes,  and 
those  of  the  Snakes.  While  these  are  but  the  names  of 
families,  their  clanship  and  the  esoteric  rites  committed  to 
their  care,  in  time  develops  a  kind  of  secret  "  order  "  which 
has  led  many  writers  to  refer  to  them  as  "  fraternities," 
after  the  style  of  our  Masons,  Oddfellows,  Knights  of 
Pythias,  etc.  This  is  an  error.  The  term  clan  is  the  better 
one,  perhaps,  to  use. 

The  date  of  the  dance  is  not  determined  without  great 
ceremonial.  First  the  chief  priest  of  the  Antelopes  orders 
the  public  crier  or  herald  to  announce,  eight  days  ahead, 
that  the  date  is  fixed.  To  the  strange  visitor  this  is  one 
of  the  things  that  strikes  him  as  extra  peculiar.  The  herald 


120  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

takes  his  position  upon  a  housetop  and  shouts  as  loudly  as 
he  can  the  announcement  he  is  required  to  make. 

On  the  same  morning,  exactly  at  sunrise,  the  priest  places 
a  line  of  sacred  meal  on  a  certain  portion  of  the  trail 
between  the  two  villages  at  the  end  of  the  first  mesa,  and 
on  this  line  of  meal  rests  a  na-kwa-kwo-chi,  or  several 
stranded  cotton  strings  to  which  feathers  are  attached. 

We  do  not  know,  as  yet,  by  what  signs  the  priests  deter- 
mine the  date  of  the  beginning  of  the  ceremonies,  but  before 
the  public  announcement  is  made  a  ceremonial  smoke  is 
held  by  the  more  important  priests  and  they  determine  the 
time. 

In  the  underground  chamber  the  secret  ceremonies  com- 
prise the  singing  of  certain  dramatic  songs,  which  give  the 
history  of  their  mythical  hero,  Tiyo,  who  brought  the  ritual 
of  the  Antelope  and  Snake  clans  from  the  underworld.  On 
four  separate  days  the  snake  priests  visit  north,  west,  south, 
and  east,  respectively,  and  hunt  for  snakes  to  be  used  in  the 
open-air  final  dance.  Other  priests  make  the  altar,  which  is 
composed  of  different  colored  sands  sprinkled  in  most 
artistic  fashion,  upon  the  ground. 

The  first  eight  days  pass  in  ceremonies  conducted  in 
secrecy  in  the  underground  kiva,  but,  on  the  morning  of 
the  great  day,  the  ninth,  the  Snake  Race  takes  place.  I  have 
witnessed  this  several  times,  hence  I  will  here  quote  what 
I  wrote  on  one  of  the  occasions,  but  have  never  before 
published. 

One  of  the  priests  went  out  to  the  starting  point  and 
sent  the  racers  flying  over  the  sand.  In  the  meantime 
another  one  prepared  the  terminal  goal  for  their  arrival. 
Cloud  symbols,  falling  rain,  and  pahos  were  arranged  across 


THE  HOPI  SNAKE  DANCE  121 

the  path,  and  other  polios  were  deposited  in  nearby  shrines. 
Then,  with  a  crook  in  one  hand  and  a  tray  of  sacred  meal 
in  the  other,  the  chief  priest  stood  awaiting  the  racers.  At 
length  one  of  the  most  keen-eyed  of  the  spectators  declared 
he  could  see  a  racer,  two,  three,  in  the  far-away  distant 
valley.  Soon  the  figures  grew  more  distinct,  and  then  began 
quiet  cries  of  recognition,  and  one  could  feel  the  suppressed 
excitement  of  the  spectators.  Yet  there  was  no  outward 
show,  no  shouting,  no  urging  of  the  runners  to  greater 
endeavor.  Rather  one  felt  that  here  was  some  struggle 
going  on  which  the  onlookers  regarded  as  sacred,  and  that 
quiet  prayers  were  being  uttered  that  loved  ones  might  win. 

Nearer  and  nearer  they  came.  The  excitement  visibly 
increased.  Bodies  were  leaned  far  out  in  the  intensity  of  the 
watching.  Children  spoke  out  to  each  other,  and  now  and 
again  turned  to  their  parents  in  questioning,  or  to  tell  what 
they  saw.  Now  the  racers  were  close  enough  to  be  seen 
with  distinctness,  an  irregular,  wavy  line  of  bronze  beings 
in  swift  motion.  Naked  save  for  the  breech-clout  and  moc- 
casins, long  black  hair  whipping  behind  in  the  morning 
breeze  and  the  swiftness  of  motion,  bodies  glistening  with 
sweat,  it  was  a  stirring  sight.  Here,  indeed,  was  living 
poetry,  Greece,  Rome  of  ancient  days  actually  set  down 
before  us.  What  graceful  runners  they  were.  How  beau- 
tiful their  nude  bodies  appeared.  How  wonderful  in  the 
manifest  endeavors  they  were  making  to  win !  The  trail  was 
sandy  and  heavy.  One  wondered  how  they  could  possibly 
run  at  all  for  any  length  of  time  over  so  soft  a  footpath, 
and  yet  they  were  coming  towards  us  at  a  terrific  gait,  and 
there  was  little  sign  of  lagging  or  of  giving  up. 

They  had  come  at  that  wind-breaking  pace  several  miles, 


122  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

and  yet  seemed  to  be  as  agile,  as  fresh,  as  resilient  in  body 
as  if  they  had  but  started.  That  was  the  growing  wonder. 
They  were  not  fagged  out.  They  were  still  actually  racing. 
See !  one  little  fellow,  sixth  in  line,  suddenly  makes  a  splen- 
did spurt  of  speed.  Slipping  to  the  right,  out  into  the  soft 
sand,  he  leaps  past  the  man  ahead  of  him,  aye,  of  two,  and 
becomes  fourth  instead  of  sixth.  The  ones  ahead  must  feel 
the  new  pressure  intuitively,  for  they  press  forward  with 
extra  speed.  One  of  them  makes  a  similar  attempt,  but 
cannot  make  it,  and  falls  back  to  his  old  place,  only  to  be 
outdistanced,  the  next  moment,  by  the  one  behind  him, 
who  dashes  ahead. 

Now  they  reach  the  foot  of  the  trail,  and  just  before  they 
do  so  the  third  youth  leaps  forth  as  if  shot  by  a  catapult. 
The  burst  of  speed  was  terrific,  splendid,  wonderful,  a  most 
marvelous  exhibition  of  reserve  power.  You  felt  that  he 
had  been  purposely  waiting  for  this  special  moment,  had 
trained  himself  for  it  in  the  days,  weeks,  months,  that  had 
preceded  the  race,  so  that  now,  with  absolute  confidence,  at 
the  critical  moment  he  took  the  first  place  from  which  it 
seemed  impossible  anyone  could  dislodge  him.  With  an 
upward  spring,  his  foot  was  the  first  to  feel  the  rock  of  the 
ladder-like  ascent,  the  final  lap  of  the  race,  the  climb  that 
makes  a  white  man  gasp  and  pause  a  dozen  times  as  he 
comes  up  leisurely. 

But  here  were  these  youths  bounding  up  like  young  deer, 
or  chamois,  actually  bounding  up,  two  steps  at  a  time,  after 
running  ten  miles  or  more  over  the  sand.  Wonderful! 
Marvelous !  Unbelievable !  For  a  time  we  lost  sight  of  first 
one,  then  another,  in  the  windings  of  the  trail.  Expectancy 
grows.  Can  they  keep  it  up  ? 


Photo  by  author 

ANTELOPE  PRIESTS  AT  WALPI,  HOPI  SNAKE  DANCE 


Photo  by  author 
THE  TRAIL  TO  WALPI  UP  WHICH  THE  RACERS  ASCEND 


THE  HOPI  SNAKE  DANCE  123 

Then,  to  our  infinite  amazement,  the  impossible  takes  place. 
The  youth  who  lost  first  place  at  the  foot  of  the  trail,  at  a 
favorable  moment  and  spot,  does  the  incredible  thing  of 
out-and-up  leaping,  passing  his  competitor,  on  that  steep 
flight  of  steps.  With  an  expenditure  of  will  power  and 
dynamic  force  that  reveals  the  power  of  the  mind  over  a 
perfectly  disciplined  body  he  shoots  upwards,  and  everyone 
knows  he  is  the  victor.  The  chief  priest  steps  forward  with 
dignity  and  calmness  to  meet  him.  Another  priest  salutes 
him  with  the  throwing  toward  him  of  a  mechanical  con- 
trivance that  makes  the  diamonds  and  zigzags  of  the 
lightning.  He  is  sprinkled  with  sacred  meal,  receives  a 
paho,  and  passes  on.  Then,  one  by  one,  and  still  exuberant 
instead  of  exhausted,  the  other  racers  come  up  the  trail. 

The  winner  has  gone  ahead  to  the  kiva,  donning  a  calico 
shirt  some  one  belonging  to  him  hands  him  on  the  way,  and 
there,  with  due  solemnity,  one  of  the  priests  gives  him  some 
other  token  of  his  supremacy  in  this  race.  And  the  race 
has  been  so  well  timed  that  the  racers  reach  the  kiva  just  at 
sunrise,  when  the  ceremony,  down  below,  of  the  Dramatiza- 
tion of  the  Sixteen  Songs  is  nearing  its  close. 

This,  indeed,  is  the  great  day.  The  Snake  Priests  wear 
their  snake  kilts  all  day  and  are  characteristically  decorated. 
Several  of  them  went  out  and  hunted  in  the  fields  for  more 
snakes,  bringing  in  anything  they  happened  to  find. 

Washing  of  the  Snakes.  At  noon  the  most  thrilling  part 
of  the  whole  ceremonies  takes  place,  not  even  excepting  the 
open-air  dance  later  in  the  day.  This  transpires  in  the 
secrecy  of  the  kiva,  and  elsewhere*  I  have  recounted  how 

*  The  Indians  of  the  Painted  Desert  Region,  by  George  Wharton 
James.  Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  Boston. 


124  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

hard  I  found  it  to  be  allowed  to  remain.  But  I  did  so,  and 
in  due  time  took  my  place  on  the  ground  among  the  priests, 
as  if  I  were  one  of  them. 

Soon  after  the  noon  hour  the  father  of  the  chief  priest 
brought  down  the  ladder  a  large  bowl,  which,  with  elaborate 
ceremony,  he  placed  in  its  designated  place.  None  of  the 
priests  spoke  above  a  whisper,  and  everything  indicated  the 
awful  solemnity  they  all  felt,  and  that  the  most  important 
rite  of  all  was  about  to  begin.  Try  to  imagine  the  scene 
when  all  was  ready.  The  underground  chamber  had  been 
hewn  largely  out  of  the  solid  rock,  some  twelve  or  fourteen 
feet  square.  The  only  light  there  was  came  down  the  hatch- 
way, out  of  which  protruded  the  long  poles  of  the  ladder. 
At  its  foot  to  the  right  the  bowl,  in  which  the  snakes  were 
to  be  washed,  was  placed,  and  around  it  sat  six  of  the  most 
important  of  the  priests,  headed  by  the  chief  priest.  Behind 
the  ladder,  on  the  raised  stone  bench  of  the  kiva,  were  the 
several  pottery  jars,  or  ollas,  in  which  the  snakes  had  been 
placed  preparatory  to  this  hour,  and  two  priests  had  charge 
of  these.  The  snakes  had  been  gathered,  with  great  cere- 
mony, on  separate  days,  from  one  of  the  cardinal  points, 
until  North,  South,  East,  West,  and  "  here  "  had  been  covered. 
At  the  other  end  of  the  room  was  the  snake  altar,  with  two 
attendants,  and  the  rest  of  the  space  was  occupied  by  the 
priests,  squatted  cross-legged  upon  the  floor,  each  with  a 
rattle  in  his  left  hand,  amongst  whom  I  had  taken  my  place. 

After  the  ceremonial  pipe  had  been  lit  by  the  pipe-lighter, 
it  was  handed  to  the  Snake  Chief,  who  puffed  smoke  several 
times  into  the  liquid,  and  then  passed  the  pipe  along.  Then, 
swiftly,  began  and  transpired  the  actual  snake-washing, 
which  I  will  let  Dr.  Fewkes  describe,  though  four  times  I 


THE  HOPI  SNAKE  DANCE  125 

have  been  privileged  to  witness  it,  and  actually  take  part 
in  it: 

Just  then  the  Snake  priests,  who  stood  by  the  snake  jars, 
began  to  take  out  the  reptiles,  and  stood  holding  several  of 
them  in  their  hands  behind  Su-pe-la,  so  that  my  attention  was 
distracted  by  them.  Su-pe-la  then  prayed,  and  after  a  short 
interval  two  rattlesnakes  were  handed  him,  after  which  other 
venomous  snakes  were  passed  to  the  others,  and  each  of  the 
six  priests  who  sat  around  the  bowl  held  two  rattlesnakes  by 
the  necks,  with  their  heads  elevated  above  the  bowl. 

A  low  noise  from  the  rattles  of  the  priests,  which  shortly 
after  was  accompanied  by  a  melodious  hum  by  all  present, 
then  began.  The  priests  who  held  the  snakes  beat  time  up  and 
down  above  the  liquid  with  the  reptiles,  which,  although  not 
vicious,  wound  their  bodies  around  the  arms  of  the  holders. 
The  song  went  on  and  frequently  changed,  growing  louder 
and  wilder,  until  it  burst  forth  into  a  fierce,  blood-curdling 
yell,  or  war-cry.  At  this  moment  the  heads  of  the  snakes  were 
thrust  several  times  into  the  liquid,  so  that  even  parts  of  their 
bodies  were  submerged,  and  were  then  drawn  out,  not  having 
left  the  hands  of  the  priests,  and  forcibly  thrown  across  the 
room  upon  the  sand-mosaic  (the  altar),  knocking  down  the 
crooks  and  other  objects  placed  about  it. 

As  they  fell  on  the  sand-picture  three  snake  priests  stood 
in  readiness,  and  while  the  reptiles  squirmed  about  or  coiled 
for  defense,  these  men  with  their  snake-whips  brushed  them 
back  and  forth  in  the  sand  of  the  altar.  The  excitement  which 
attended  this  ceremony  cannot  be  adequately  described.  The 
low  song,  breaking  into  piercing  shrieks,  the  red-stained  sing- 
ers, the  snakes  thrown  by  the  chiefs,  and  the  fierce  attitudes 
of  the  reptiles  as  they  landed  on  the  sand-mosaic,  made  it 
next  to  impossible  to  sit  calmly  down  and  quietly  note  the 
events  which  followed  one  after  another  in  quick  succession. 
The  sight  haunted  me  for  weeks  afterwards,  and  I  can  never 
forget  this  wildest  of  all  the  aboriginal  rites  of  this  strange 
people,  which  showed  no  element  of  our  present  civilization. 
It  was  a  performance  which  might  have  been  expected  in  the 
heart  of  Africa  rather  than  in  the  American  Union,  and  cer- 


126 

tainly  one  could  not  realize  that  he  was  in  the  United  States 
at  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century.  The  low,  weird  song 
continued  while  other  rattlesnakes  were  taken  in  the  hands 
of  the  priests,  and  as  the  song  rose  again  to  the  wild  war- 
cry,  these  snakes  were  also  plunged  into  the  liquid  and  thrown 
upon  the  writhing  mass  which  now  occupied  the  place  of  the 
altar.  Again  and  again  this  was  repeated  until  all  the  snakes 
had  been  treated  in  the  same  way,  and  reptiles,  fetishes,  crooks, 
and  sand  were  mixed  together  in  one  confused  mass.  As  the 
excitement  subsided  and  the  snakes  crawled  to  the  corners  of 
the  kiva,  seeking  vainly  for  protection,  they  were  again  pushed 
back  into  the  mass,  and  brushed  together  in  the  sand  in  order 
that  their  bodies  might  be  thoroughly  dried.  Every  snake  in 
the  collection  was  thus  washed,  the  harmless  varieties  being 
bathed  after  the  venomous.  In  the  destruction  of  the  altar 
by  the  reptiles  the  snake  tiponi  stood  upright  until  all  had  been 
washed,  and  then  one  of  the  priests  turned  it  on  its  side,  as  a 
sign  that  the  observance  had  ended.  The  low,  weird  song  of 
the  snake  men  continued,  and  gradually  died  away  until  there 
was  no  sound  but  the  warning  rattle  of  the  snakes  mingled 
with  that  of  the  rattles  in  the  hands  of  the  chiefs,  and  finally 
the  motion  of  the  snake-whips  ceased,  and  all  was  silent. 

But  the  ceremony  was  not  wholly  finished,  although  the 
snakes  had  been  thrown  into  "their  home,"  the  sand  picture, 
and  thoroughly  dried  by  the  sand.  Su-pe-la  sprinkled  sacred 
meal  in  the  liquid  in  which  the  snakes  had  been  bathed,  and 
threw  a  pinch  of  the  same  to  each  of  the  six  cardinal  points. 
He  then  prayed,  and  as  he  did  so,  air  the  assembled  priests 
responded,  while  those  who  had  handled  the  snakes  washed 
their  hands  in  the  liquid,  and  rubbed  it  on  their  breasts  and 
other  parts  of  their  bodies.  K6-pe-li  (the  chief  priest)  also 
prayed  fervently,  and  sprinkled  meal  in  the  liquid,  followed 
by  some  of  the  remaining  snake  priests.* 

I  have  thus  quoted  from  Dr.  Fewkes  that  my  readers 
might  know  in  the  language  of  a  cool,  deliberate  man  of 
science,  what  definitely  transpired.  He  stood  as  an  onlooker. 

*  "  The  Snake  Ceremonials  at  Walpi,"  Journal  of  American  Ethnology, 
vol.  iv.  pp.  84-85.  Houghton  Mifflin  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


THE  HOPI  SNAKE  DANCE  127 

On  the  other  hand  I  was  an  actual  participant.  I  was  seated 
in  the  midst  of  the  priests  on  the  floor.  I  joined  in  the 
song,  and  learned  exactly  when  to  burst  forth  into  the  ear- 
splitting  and  hair-raising  war-cry.  And  in  one  of  the 
ceremonies  I  had  a  personal  experience  with  a  rattlesnake 
which  it  may  be  interesting  to  recount.  In  this  instance  all 
the  snakes  were  not  kept  on  the  altar  during  the  progress 
of  the  ceremony,  for,  leaning  up  to  look,  I  was  surprised 
to  find  it  almost  bare  of  snakes.  I  then  found  they  were 
given  the  freedom  of  the  room  and  were  all  about  us. 

Suddenly  I  felt  a  peculiar  sensation  on  my  right  knee. 
Looking  down,  there  was  a  good-sized  rattler,  fully  five  feet 
long,  his  head  upreared  and  resting  on  my  right  knee,  while 
he  swayed  his  head,  first  to  one  side  and  then  to  the  other, 
as  if  he  were  studiously  examining  me  with  one  eye  and 
then  the  other,  as  much  as  to  say,  "What  are  you  doing  here. 
You're  no  Hopi  ?  "  I  did  not  feel  altogether  comfortable 
under  this  intense  personal  scrutiny,  nor  was  my  embarrass- 
ment relieved  when  I  observed  that  the  two  priests,  one  on 
each  side  of  me,  had  caught  sight  of  the  snake  and  were 
keenly  alive  to  what  was  taking  place.  I  felt  they  were 
watching  me,  and  more  eager  to  see  what  I  would  do,  rather 
than  what  the  snake  would  do. 

It  is  impossible  fully  to  explain  the  sudden  impulses  that 
seize  one  and  that  demand  that  one  do  what  the  moment 
before  he  would  have  deemed  an  impossibility.  This  was 
such  a  moment.  My  subconscious  self  seemed  to  say: 
"  These  men  are  watching  you.  Now's  your  time,  Seize 
the  snake  and  the  opportunity  to  make  them  your  friends 
for  life!"  Acting  on  the  impulse,  I  grasped  the  snake 
around  the  neck,  very  gently,  but  very  firmly,  and  raised 


128  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

him  up,  holding  the  flat  of  my  left  hand  to  receive  him. 
He  quietly  rested  and  then  coiled  on  it,  while  I  put  my  hand 
over  him  and  stroked  him  as  I  had  seen  the  priests  do.  As 
quietly  as  if  he  were  a  pet  kitten  he  remained  under  my 
warm  hand,  while  the  priest  on  my  right,  delighted  with 
my  friendly  action  to  the  "Elder  Brother,"  patted  me 
gently  on  the  knee,  the  while  exclaiming  in  his  soft,  sweet 
voice,  Lolomai!  Lolomai!  —  Good!  Good!  The  priest  on 
my  left  gave  me  an  extra  pat,  an  emphatic  Lololami!  Lolo- 
lami!  —  Very  good!  Very  good! 

Seeing  that  he  was  so  pleased,  I  silently  handed  him  the 
snake,  which  he  placed  on  the  ground,  and  we  joined  again 
in  the  song. 

When  all  the  snakes  were  washed  the  chief  priests  took 
away  the  charm  liquid  in  its  bowl,  and  also  the  jars  in 
which  the  snakes  had  been  kept.  Other  priests  herded  the 
snakes  to  one  side  of  the  kiva,  and  then  all  retired  save  one, 
who  was  left  to  guard  the  snakes.  When  I  went  in  for  the 
ceremony  I  had  braved  all  risks,  and  unheeded  all  remon- 
strances, pretending  not  to  understand  them,  and  had  taken 
my  large  tripod  camera  down  into  the  kiva.  I  knew  where 
the  snakes  would  be  "herded,"  and  that  I  might  have  an 
opportunity  to  make  a  photograph.  I  had  measured  the 
distance,  arranged  the  focus,  put  in  the  plate-holder  and 
removed  the  slide,  setting  the  shutter  and  putting  on  the  cap 
for  a  cap  exposure.  Now  was  my  chance.  Keeping  the 
priest  out  of  the  way,  I  secretly  slipped  off  the  cap,  and 
allowed  the  plate  to  remain  exposed  for  fully  five  minutes, 
and  the  accompanying  picture  is  the  result.  This,  I  believe, 
was  the  first  time  any  photograph  was  ever  made  of  the 
snakes  in  the  kiva,  as  mine  was  the  first  time,  so  my  Hopi 


< 

> 


W     o 
ffi    >< 

^  I 


THE  HOPI  SNAKE  DANCE  129 

friends  assure  me,  that  a  white  man  had  ever  actually  par- 
ticipated in  the  ceremony. 

The  Snake  Dance.  During  the  afternoon  the  priests  pre- 
pare for  the  public  ceremony,  in  the  dance-plaza,  of  the 
Snake  Dance.  The  general  writer  describes  it  as  a  wild, 
frenzied,  fanatical  ceremony,  hideous,  repulsive,  and  dis- 
gusting; and  he  gives  vivid  word  pictures  of  crazily-excited 
savages,  in  a  half -nude  condition,  shrieking,  yelling,  and 
gesticulating  in  a  manner  suggestive  of  an  asylum  of  the 
violently  insane,  while  they  toss  around  and  handle  ven- 
omous snakes  with  an  utter  disregard  of  dangerous 
consequences.  Such  descriptions  are  utterly  false  and  mis- 
leading. There  is  nothing  that  justifies  these  wild  stories. 
A  far  more  accurate  and  reliable  story  is  that  written  by 
Hamlin  Garland: 

At  five  o'clock  the  plaza  surrounding  the  sacred  rock  was 
heaped  and  piled  with  people.  There  were  representatives 
from  the  other  six  villages ;  there  were  cowboys  from  south- 
ern Colorado  and  from  Holbrook;  there  were  Navahos  from 
the  great  reservation  to  the  east;  there  were  reporters  for 
eastern  papers ;  there  were  scientists  from  Boston,  New  York, 
and  Chicago;  there  were  teachers  from  the  Hopi  school  at 
Keams  Canyon. 

Upon  every  cornice,  every  roof,  every  adobe  balcony,  the 
Hopis  themselves  were  gathered,  attired  in  the  most  brilliant 
and  the  quaintest  costumes.  The  buildings  rising  against  the 
deep  blue  cloudless  sky,  covered  with  these  barbaric  colors, 
made  a  picture  worthy  the  brush  of  the  finest  artist.  As  a 
painter  said,  "It  was  a  salon  picture."  Nothing  can  be  com- 
pared with  it  except  possibly  the  final  feast  of  Holy  Week 
in  some  interior  Mexican  town.  The  white  people  laughed, 
the  dogs  and  children  made  tumult,  while  the  crowd  waited 
patiently  the  incoming  of  the  Snake  men.  Below,  on  the  valley 
floor  the  cloud  shadows  floated  like  boats  on  a  yellow  sea. 

As  I  stood  near  the  kisi  of  cottonwood  boughs  a  man  passed 


130  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

me  with  a  bag  containing  something  heavy;  for  an  instant  I 
could  not  realize  that  the  bag  contained  snakes;  he  handled 
it  as  if  it  contained  sand,  and  the  reptiles  made  no  noise.  So 
matter  of  fact  were  his  actions,  few  observed  his  entrance. 
I  returned  to  the  kiva  and  waited  the  coming  of  the  priests. 
Two  children  emerged  first  from  the  Antelope  kiva,  little  tots 
hardly  more  than  five  or  six  years  of  age,  striped  like  their 
elders  with  kaolin,  with  little  chins  whitened  and  foreheads 
blackened,  with  strings  of  beads  looped  about  their  necks  and 
rattles  in  their  hands.  The  little  fellows  ranged  themselves 
up  near  the  corner  of  the  nearest  house  and  waited  the  coming 
of  their  elders.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  with  what  dignity 
these  chubby  little  babes  bore  themselves.  They  did  not  allow 
themselves  to  smile  nor  to  notice  the  other  youngsters  about 
them. 

The  asperger  came  next,  an  old  man  carrying  a  bowl  of 
charm  liquid.  While  the  rest  climbed  out  behind  him,  he  busied 
himself  in  sprinkling  the  way  to  the  Snake  kiva;  the  other 
Antelopes  following  scattered  from  their  right  hand  a  pinch 
of  meal  into  the  open  door  of  the  Snake  kiva.  The  rear  was 
brought  up  by  the  whizzer,  an  old  man  dressed  in  completely 
archaic  costume,  carrying  two  small  pieces  of  board  attached 
to  strings.  These  he  whirled  sharply,  making  a  sound  resem- 
bling thunder  and  hail. 

After  they  had  all  passed  through  the  narrow  street  and 
upon  the  plaza,  the  Snake  priests  came  up  from  below.  They 
took  down  the  sign  which  hung  upon  the  ladder,  and  which 
was  always  present  during  the  last  four  days  of  their  occupancy 
of  the  kiva,  and  slowly  formed  into  line.  Each  man  had  the 
upper  part  of  his  face  blackened,  and  the  lower  part  of  the 
face  whitened.  Each  carried  a  bunch  of  eagle  feathers  in 
his  hair,  and  from  his  belt  behind  streamed  the  complete  skin 
of  a  fox.  Each  wore  a  short  cotton  kilt,  ornamented  with  a 
figure  of  the  Great  Plumed  Serpent.  Many  of  them,  if  not  all 
of  them,  wore  upon  the  right  leg  a  small  turtle-shell  rattle. 
Their  whole  dress  was  splendidly  barbaric,  and  their  faces 
were  very  intent,  almost  solemn.  There  was,  however,  no 
sign  of  abnormal  excitement.  They  talked  among  themselves 
in  low  tones,  and  ranged  themselves  in  line.  There  were  no 


THE  HOPI  SNAKE  DANCE  131 

signs  of  hypnotizing  and  no  sign  of  the  strain  under  which 
they  had  been  laboring  for  nine  successive  days. 

At  a  signal  from  the  leader,  Kopeli,  they  entered  the  plaza 
in  single  file,  on  a  rapid  walk,  and  after  circling  the  plaza, 
ranged  themselves  in  a  slightly  curved  line  before  the  tent  of 
cottonwood  boughs  in  which  the  snakes  were  placed,  and  on 
each  side  of  which  the  fifteen  Antelope  priests  stood  in  line 
singing  a  wild  and  guttural  chant.  It  was  almost  a  repetition 
of  the  corn  dance  of  the  day  before. 

Standing  thus,  the  Snake  chiefs  shook  their  snake  whips  with 
a  peculiarly  quickening  action,  in  time  to  the  rattles  and  the 
chanting  of  the  Antelopes,  stamping  also  with  the  right  foot. 
The  whole  line  swayed  rhythmically  as  they  rose  and  fell  in 
this  measured  step  from  the  right  foot  to  the  left.  The  song 
changed  to  a  deep,  musical,  humming  sound ;  the  asperger  stood 
before  the  kisi  asperging  to  the  cardinal  points.  The  Snake 
men  did  not  sing  at  any  time. 

A  wilder  hum  arose,  a  portentous,  guttural,  snarling  sound, 
which  passed  soon  to  a  strong,  manly,  marching  chant,  full  of 
sudden,  deep-falling,  stern  cadences.  Then  Kopeli,  the  Snake 
chief,  and  the  one  second  to  him  joined  arms  and  danced 
slowly  down  before  the  kisi.  They  stopped,  and  when  they 
rose  Kopeli  held  in  his  mouth  a  snake.  His  companion  placed 
his  left  arm  over  the  Snake  chief's  shoulders,  and  together 
they  turned,  circling  to  the  left.  The  snake  hung  quietly  from 
the  Snake  priest's  mouth.  It  was  held  at  about  nine  inches 
from  the  head.  Behind  him  walked  the  third  man,  the  snake 
gatherer.  They  passed  with  a  quick,  strong  step,  one  might 
almost  say  with  a  lope,  in  time  to  the  singing. 

Immediately  behind  came  another  group,  the  snake  carrier 
holding  an  entire  snake  in  his  mouth,  the  head  protruding 
about  an  inch.  These  two  were  followed  by  a  third  man,  the 
snake  gatherer ;  and  soon  the  entire  line  of  thirty-three  Snake 
priests  had  broken  into  eleven  groups  and  were  circling  the 
plaza,  one  man  in  each  group  carrying  from  one  to  three 
snakes  in  his  mouth.  The  singing  continued,  stern  and  swift 
like  a  strong  stream,  and  although  at  times  the  dancers  lost 
step  to  the  music,  in  general  they  may  be  said  to  have  retained 
throughout  all  the  rush  of  movement  a  tolerable  accuracy  of 


132  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

rhythm.  A  group  of  women  stood  near  and  threw  sacred  meal 
upon  the  men  as  they  passed.  They  kept  far  from  contact,  I 
observed.  The  excitement  of  the  spectators  increased.  I  pushed 
close  to  the  circle  of  dancing  priests  to  study  their  faces. 

One  man  passed  with  an  enormous  bull  snake  in  his  mouth. 
Its  tail  hung  down  to  his  knee.  Each  snake  carrier  danced 
with  his  eyes  closed  and  his  chin  thrust  forward.  The  reasons 
for  this  were  obvious.  The  little  snakes  were  the  most  vicious, 
and  struck  repeatedly  at  the  eyes  and  cheeks  of  the  priests. 
Several  of  them  seized  upon  the  skin,  and  held  on  until 
brushed  away  by  the  whip  of  the  "hugger."  In  every  case 
which  I  observed  the  rattlesnakes  hung  peaceful,  and  without 
any  action  whatever,  from  the  mouths  of  the  dancers,  and 
only  struck  or  coiled  to  strike  after  falling  upon  the  bare  rock. 
Their  coats  seemed  dry  or  dusty. 

One  man  went  by  with  two  large  rattlesnakes  in  his  mouth. 
Another  held  a  rattlesnake  and  two  larger  bull  snakes  between 
his  lips ;  and  a  third  priest,  to  silence  all  question  of  his 
superiority,  crowded  into  his  mouth  four  snakes!  The  gath- 
erer who  followed  him  held  in  the  fingers  of  his  left  hand  six 
or  eight  snakes,  strung  like  pieces  of  rope.  In  fact,  they  all 
handled  the  snakes  precisely  as  if  they  were  skeins  of  yarn, 
with  the  single  exception  of  the  moment  when  they  snatched 
them  from  the  ground. 

Once  or  twice  there  was  a  brief  struggle  between  the  snake 
gatherer  and  the  fallen  snake.  In  every  case  which  I  observed 
the  snake  gatherer  brushed  the  snake  with  the  feathers  of  his 
snake  whip  until  he  uncoiled  and  straightened  out  to  run. 
After  the  gatherer  picked  him  up  he  was  as  helpless  as  if  dead. 

As  the  dance  went  on  the  excitement  grew.  The  clink  of 
metal  fringes  and  the  patter  of  rattles  filled  the  ear.  The  snakes 
dashed  into  the  crowd,  shouts  and  screams  and  laughter  arose, 
but  the  wary  snake  gatherer  in  every  case  caught  the  snake 
before  it  passed  out  of  reach.  In  one  or  two  instances  when 
a  rattlesnake  ran  toward  the  women  with  their  basket  plaques 
of  meal,  they  broke  into  wild  screams  and  ran.  Evidently  they 
feared  the  rattlesnakes  quite  as  much  as  any  of  the  white 
women.  At  least,  so  deep  was  my  interest  to  see,  that  I  lost 
all  sense  of  hearing.  They  all  moved  like  figures  in  a  dream. 


THE  HOPI  SNAKE  DANCE  133 

During  all  this  time,  whatever  the  outcries  among  the  spec- 
tators, whatever  the  screams  or  laughter  among  the  women 
with  the  meal,  the  Snake  priests,  intent  and  grave,  showed  no 
trace  whatever  of  excitement.  It  is  absurd  to  speak  of  hyp- 
notism or  frenzy  of  any  kind.  They  were  not  in  the  slightest 
degree  moved  either  to  fear  or  laughter,  or  even  to  the  point 
of  being  hastened  or  retarded  by  the  presence  of  the  white  man. 
They  had  a  religious  duty  to  perform,  and  they  were  carrying 
it  forward,  intent,  masterful,  solemn,  and  perfectly  silent. 
Incredible,  thrilling,  savage,  and  dangerous  as  it  appeared  to 
us,  to  them  it  was  a  world-old  religious  ceremonial. 

At  last,  when  all  the  snakes  had  been  carried,  and  when  each 
snake  gatherer  held  in  his  hand  huge  bundles  of  the  appar- 
ently inert  serpents,  the  Antelopes  and  the  snake  gatherers 
formed  a  swift  circle.  As  they  waited,  Kopeli  drew  a  circle 
of  meal  upon  the  ground,  and  all  the  snakes  were  thrown  in 
a  tangled,  writhing  heap  within  this  circle.  Then  the  women 
rushed  timorously  forward  and  sprinkled  meal  over  the  writh- 
ing mass.  Then,  most  wonderful  of  all,  before  the  swiftest 
serpent  could  escape,  the  priests  snatched  them  up  in  handfuls, 
and  started  with  them  down  the  sides  of  the  mesa.  In  an 
incredibly  short  time  every  snake  had  been  whipped  from  the 
ground  and  was  in  the  hands  of  these  runners.  Each  man 
carried  from  eight  to  twelve,  indiscriminately  snatched  up. 
This  whole  action  of  heaping  the  snakes  within  the  circle, 
covering  them  with  the  meal,  and  snatching  them  up  again  was 
all  done  in  the  space  of  a  few  seconds. 

The  snakes,  "the  Elder  Brothers,"  had  taken  part  in  the 
dance,  their  heads  had  been  sprinkled  with  meal,  the  prayers  to 
the  gods  had  been  whispered  to  them ;  they  were  now  to  return 
to  the  fields  to  carry  the  messages  of  the  Snake  priests  to  the 
gods  of  rain  and  plenty. 

On  the  southern  side  of  the  mesa  I  stood  to  watch  two  of 
these  marvellous  runners.  They  ran  with  the  speed  of  goats 
down  the  precipitous  slopes  and  out  over  the  sandy  foothills. 
At  a  distance  possibly  of  half  a  mile  from  the  foot  of  the 
mesa,  under  a  huge  rock,  they  knelt  down,  uttered  a  little 
prayer,  and  released  the  snakes.  In  returning  they  mounted 
the  steep  paths  with  almost  undiminished  speed.  Other  run- 


134  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

ners  went  to  the  east,  to  the  south,  to  the  west.  In  twenty 
minutes  from  the  time  the  Snake  priests  had  ranged  themselves 
before  the  kisi,  a  hundred  snakes,  half  of  them  rattlesnakes, 
had  been  carried  around  the  plaza  in  the  mouths  of  eleven 
men,  had  been  dropped  upon  the  floor  of  the  plaza,  recovered 
by  the  snake  gatherers,  thrown  into  a  heap,  sprinkled  with 
meal,  snatched  up  by  eight  men,  and  carried  back  into  the  open 
country.  During  this  time  no  one  had  been  bitten,  no  smallest 
snake  had  escaped  in  the  crowd  which  closely  pressed  upon 
the  Snake  priests,  and,  so  far  as  could  be  told,  no  ill  thing 
had  occurred.  This  was  the  climax  of  the  incredible,  and  I 
could  not  believe  it  had  I  not  witnessed  it.  As  I  look  back 
upon  it,  it  is  akin  to  the  sense-defying  action  of  dreams. 

Meanwhile  the  Antelopes  had  calmly  finished  their  singing 
and  had  marched  back  to  the  Antelope  kiva.  The  remaining 
Snake  priests  had  also  retired  to  their  kiva,  and  were  divest- 
ing themselves  of  their  snake  whips  and  rattles,  and  other 
removable  parts  of  their  regalia. 

There  now  occurred  a  singular  scene  on  the  north  side  of 
the  village,  on  the  edge  of  the  cliff.  This  was  the  vomiting  of 
the  priests.  It  has  been  called  a  ludicrous  sight;  certainly  it 
is  an  unusual  thing  to  see  thirty  men  drinking  an  emetic  at  the 
same  moment.  But  I  felt  little  inclination  to  laugh,  for  it 
showed  how  severe  had  been  the  strain  upon  the  devotees.  It 
was  no  joke.  They  had  been  fasting  for  thirty-six  hours. 
They  had  been  forced  to  live  for  five  or  six  days  with  a  hun- 
dred snakes  in  a  close  underground  chamber.  They  had  held 
the  writhing  bodies  of  from  five  to  twelve  snakes  in  their 
mouths.  They  may  have  been  bitten  by  the  snakes.  Whatever 
the  purpose  of  this  retching,  certainly  it  was  a  grim  and  heroic 
treatment.  They  passed  through  it  with  so  much  of  dignity 
as  any  man  may.  They  made  no  talk  among  themselves  or  to 
those  standing  about.  As  in  all  the  other  ceremonies,  they 
were  composed,  serious,  and  intent. 

This,  however,  was  the  final  and  severest  part  of  the  cere- 
mony. They  were  now  permitted  to  drink  copiously  of  clean 
water.  They  also  immediately  unbent.  They  smiled  and 
greeted  their  acquaintances  standing  about.  And  now  a  pretty 
custom  intervened.  There  came  into  their  group  five  or  six 


135 

young  girls,  daughters  and  sweethearts,  we  may  suppose,  to 
help  the  priests  wash  the  paint  from  their  bodies.  It  added 
a  fine  touch  of  clean,  sane  domesticity  to  the  scene.  The  girls 
had  no  sense  of  false  shame.  They  laughed  and  chatted  as 
they  splashed  the  water  over  the  glistening,  brown  bodies  of 
the  men.  It  would  be  impossible  to  see  elsewhere  in  America 
another  such  scene.  It  humanized  these  people.  It  took  away 
all  feeling  of  savagery  from  these  men.  They  were  priests. 
They  were  performing  in  a  traditional  ceremony.  The  cere- 
mony itself  had  in  it  something  of  the  barbarity  of  the  olden 
time,  but  their  pleasant  and  smiling  faces  as  they  received  water 
from  the  hands  of  their  women  had  no  trace  of  ferocity  left. 
The  fitting  close  to  this  remarkable,  and  in  many  respects 
beautiful,  drama  and  religious  ceremony  was  the  procession 
of  women  bearing  gifts  of  bread  and  meats  to  the  kiva.  They 
came  with  seriousness  and  reverence,  carrying  in  their  uplifted 
hands  steaming  stews,  piles  of  blue  piki  bread,  and  golden 
mush.  This  disappeared  down  the  kiva  mouth,  enough  pro- 
vision to  last  a  hundred  men  a  week.* 

Naturally  the  inquiring  mind  of  the  thoughtful  white 
man  asks  what  it  is  all  about,  what  is  its  real  significance. 
All  study  and  investigation  points  but  to  one  answer.  The 
Snake  Dance  and  all  its  attendant  ceremonies  is  an  elaborate 
prayer  for  rain,  in  which  the  Elder  Brothers  of  the  Snake 
and  Antelope  gentes  must  take  part.  They  are,  therefore, 
gathered  from  the  fields  for  that  purpose,  and  specifically 
intrusted  with  the  prayers  of  the  human  participants,  and 
then  given  their  liberty  to  bear  these  petitions  to  their 
Snake  Mother  and  other  divinities  who  have  the  power  to 
send  the  blessing  of  copious  rains  upon  the  otherwise  arid 
and  parched  farms  of  the  Hopi.  And,  singular  —  or  is  it 
singular  —  to  relate,  in  the  thirteen  times  I  have  witnessed 
the  ceremonies  I  have  never  once  known  the  rain  to  fail  — • 
though,  sometimes,  it  has  come  a  few  days  before  the  public 
dance  instead  of  after  it. 

*  Harper's  Weekly,  August  15,  1896,  pp.  806-7. 


CHAPTER  XII 

OVER  THE  LAVA  FIELDS  TO  THE  "  SEVEN  CITIES 
OF  CIBOLA" 

WHEN  the  old  Spanish  conquistadores  crossed  what  is 
now  Arizona  and  New  Mexico  they  sought  as  easy 
a  road  as  was  possible  under  the  conditions.  So  does  the 
ordinary  modern  tourist  and  traveler.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  are  a  few  who  are  willing  to  travel  the  rockiest 
road,  and  endure  hardships,  if  thereby  they  may  see  and 
learn  something  of  the  great  land  they  are  proud  to  call 
their  own.  Only  travelers  of  the  latter  type  should  try  to 
go  to  the  "  Seven  Cities  of  Cibola"  —  Zuni — by  way  of  the 
lava  fields.  The  others  should  go  to  Gallup,  obtain  an  auto- 
mobile and  ride  there  over  fairly  good  roads.  But  we  are 
on  a  sight-seeing  expedition  —  a  geological  banquet. 

All  the  way  along  from  Albuquerque,  New  Mexico,  on 
the  main  line  of  the  Santa  Fe,  the  observant  traveler  has 
observed  evidences  of  volcanic  activity.  Near  the  Indian 
village  of  Laguna,  on  the  left-hand  side,  the  lava  is  a  very 
prominent  feature,  and  remains  in  sight  for  miles,  close  to 
the  course  of  the  San  Jose  Creek  (sometimes  a  turbulent 
river),  which  has  cut  its  way  down  and  formed  the  valley 
through  which  the  railway  runs.  Mile  after  mile  it  is  passed, 
a  long  grayish-black  streak  on  the  landscape,  clearly  reveal- 
ing a  great  outflow  from  one  or  more  vents,  for  no  volcanic 
cone  is  to  be  seen  until  much  farther  west.  This  is  Mount 

136 


"SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA"  137 

San  Mateo,  one  of  the  sacred  mountains  of  the  Navahos, 
and  called  by  them  Tsotsil.  It  was  named  Mount  Taylor,  in 
1849,  by  Lieut.  Simpson,  of  the  United  States  Army,  in 
honor  of  the  then  president.  To  us  it  is  particularly  inter- 
esting, for  from  it  has  flowed  a  vast  amount  of  the  lava  of 
this  region.  Rising  up  out  of  the  valleys  east  and  north  of 
San  Mateo  are  several  other  prominent  volcanic  peaks.  The 
chief  of  these  is  called  by  the  Mexicans  El  Cabezon,  or  "  The 
Great  Head."  The  Navahos  tell  an  interesting  legend  about 
this  and  the  surrounding  lava  flo\vs.  It  is  to  the  effect  that 
one  of  the  gods,  whom  they  were  terribly  afraid  of,  was  a 
cannibalistic  monster,  named  Yeitso,  who  used  to  feed  upon 
the  bodies  of  men,  women,  and  children.  For  years  they 
submitted  to  the  devastations  of  this  fierce  giant,  until 
there  arose  a  hero  who,  with  the  aid  of  the  gods  and  his 
brother,  slew  the  monster,  and  cut  off  his  head.  According 
to  the  Navaho  legend,  as  recorded  by  Dr.  Washington 
Matthews : 

They  cut  off  his  head  and  threw  it  away  to  the  other  side 
of  Tsotsil,  where  it  may  be  seen  today  on  the  eastern  side  of 
the  mountain.  The,  blood  from  the  body  now  flowed  in  a 
great  stream  down  the  valley,  so  great  that  it  broke  down 
the  rock  wall  that  bounded  the  old  lake  and  flowed,  on.  Niltsi 
whispered  to  the  brothers :  "  The  blood  flows  toward  the  dwell- 
ing of  the  Binaye  Ahani  (others  of  the  magic-working  gods 
who  were  enemies  of  the  Navaho)  ;  if  it  reaches  them,  Yeitso 
will  come  to  life  again."  Then  Nayenezgani  took  his  knife 
club,  and  drew  with  it  across  the  valley  a  line.  Here  the  blood 
stopped  flowing  and  piled  itself  up  in  a  high  wall.  But  when 
it  had  piled  up  here  very  high  it  began  to  flow  again  off  in 
another  direction,  and  Niltsi  again  whispered :  "  It  now  flows 
toward  the  dwelling  of  the  Bear  that  pursues ;  if  it  reaches 
him,  Yeitso  will  come  to  life  again."  Hearing  this,  Nayenez- 
gani again  drew  a  line  with  his  knife  on  the  ground,  and 


138  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

again  the  blood  piled  up  and  stopped  flowing.  The  blood  of 
Yeitso  fills  all  the  valley  today,  and  the  high  cliffs  in  the  black 
rock  that  we  see  there  now  are  the  places  where  Nayenezgani 
stopped  the  flow  with  his  knife.* 

The  whole  country  as  far  west  as  the  San  Francisco 
Mountains  in  Arizona  bears  evidence  of  great  volcanic  activ- 
ity at,  at  least,  three  separate  periods.  South  of  the  railway 
at  McCarty's  and  Grant's  Stations  are  vast  lava  areas,  and 
one  can  trace  a  great  flow  from  the  Agua  Fria  crater.  This 
crater  is  almost  completely  surrounded  by  trees,  and  they 
have  clambered  up  its  sides  almost  to  the  summit.  One 
side  of  it  is  so  steep  and  covered  with  disintegrated  pieces 
of  lava  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  climb  it,  while  the 
other  side  has  a  comparatively  easy  slope.  Standing  on 
the  rim  of  the  gigantic  bowl,  it  takes  a  little  time  to  grasp 
the  majestic  proportions.  The  solid  rock  makes  sheer  drop 
into  the  dizzying  abyss,  and  on  the  bottom,  which  is  dimly 
to  be  discerned,  an  immense  tree  is  growing  up.  Nearly 
opposite  to  where  we  stand  the  whole  side  of  the  crater  is 
broken  down  for  about  three- fourths  the  general  height,  and 
the  appearance  suggested  that  out  of  this  vast  break  the 
molten  flood  must  have  poured.  The  crater  looks  as  if  it 
must  be  from  1,500  to  2,000  feet  across,  and  from  700  to 
800  feet  deep.  Now  imagine  the  scene  before  and  after  this 
break  occurred.  The  great  crater  was  then  a  bubbling, 
seething  mass  of  incandescent  molten  rock.  Watch  it  boil- 
ing and  lifting  up  bubbles  which  burst  and  let  out  the  poi- 
sonous gases  like  a  magic  cauldron  of  devil's  mush  almost 
ready  to  be  served.  Every  once  in  a  while  a  mass  of  the 

*  Naraho    Legends,   by   Washington    Matthews.      Published    for    the 
American  Folk  Lore  Society  by  Houghton    Mifflin  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


Courtesy  of  U.  S.  Geological  Survey 

LAVA  "  NECKS,"  OR  "  HEADS  " 

OVERLOOKING  THE  GREAT  LAVA  FIELD  OF  NEW   MEXICO 


Courtesy  of  U.  S.  Geological  Survey 

LAVA  " NECK " 


Photo  by  F.  H.  Maude 

PLAZA  IN  THE  PUEBLO  OF  ZUNI,  NEW  MEXICO 


Photo  by  George  Wharton  James 

ZUNI  INDIANS  MAKING  BEAD  NECKLACES 


"SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA"  139 

surrounding  bowl  crumbles  and  falls  into  the  "mush  pot," 
and,  suddenly,  with  a  great  crash  and  a  muffled  roar  the 
wall  on  the  north  breaks,  and  gives  way  to  the  pressure  of 
the  mass  of  liquid  within.  Down  it  falls  with  a  noise  that 
can  be  heard  for  miles  and  out  pours  the  wild,  raging  flood 
with  its  fierce  heat,  to  spread  over  the  valley. 

For  days  and  days  it  spread  in  every  direction,  flowing 
down  canyons,  filling  up  depressions,  and  penetrating  every- 
where. At  the  first  great  outburst  the  wall  of  flaming  and 
roaring  fire-liquid  must  have  been  fully  five  hundred  feet 
high.  What  could  withstand  its  fierce  oncoming! 

The  further  away  it  got  from  the  crater  the  more  it  cooled. 
Then  began  to  occur  miniature  explosions  which  we  can 
even  today  clearly  trace  and  understand.  As  the  molten 
rock  flows,  the  exterior  mass  rapidly  cools  and  solidifies, 
while  the  interior  of  the  mass  remains  liquid  and  flows  on. 
Thus  we  have  the  peculiar  spectacle  of  a  flowing  body  that 
emerges  from  a  tunnel  of  its  own  making,  almost  as  if  one 
had  hold  of  the  end  of  a  gigantic  sausage,  which,  as  he 
pulled  upon  it,  magically  extended  its  length  while  still 
remaining  at  about  the  same  size.  The  tunnels  thus  formed 
of  the  cooled  shell  of  the  lava  were  held  in  place  by  the 
pressure  of  the  gases  developed  by  the  intense  heat.  Occa- 
sionally a  great  gas  bubble  would  burst,  fill  the  tunnel  so 
far  with  its  volume,  the  pressure  of  which  the  slight  shell 
could  not  resist,  and  there  would  be  an  explosion.  In  such 
a  case  the  rock  would  turn  up  on  end,  be  shattered,  fall 
into  the  hole  caused  by  the  explosion,  and  nothing  but  a 
wild,  jagged  mass  of  rocks  with  sharpened  edges  be  exposed. 
In  other  cases  the  tunnels  would  remain  in  the  form  of 
caves,  and  some  of  these  I  have  followed  for  quite  a  dis- 


140  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

tance,  high  enough,  in  places,  to  allow  a  man  on  horseback 
to  ride  comfortably. 

In  some  cases  the  half  molten  rock  was  turned  over  by 
the  expanding  gases  until  it  seems  as  if  a  gigantic  plow- 
share, able  to  turn  a  furrow  forty  or  fifty  feet  high,  had 
come  along  and  plowed  it  up  in  this  stupendous  fashion.  In 
many  places  the  lava  has  the  appearance  of  miles  and  miles 
of  gigantic  black  cauliflowers,  into  which  garden  some  fierce 
demon,  possessed  with  the  spirit  of  destructiveness,  had 
entered  with  a  club,  with  which  he  had  struck  right  and 
left,  breaking  the  "  flowers  "  of  the  vegetables  into  pieces  of 
every  size  and  shape  and  scattering  them  in  every  direction. 

Several  days  may  be  spent  in  following  these  lava  flows, 
in  ascending  Mt.  San  Mateo,  and  tracing  the  remnants  of 
the  earlier  flows.  One  must  be  prepared  for  such  explora- 
tion, however,  as  the  rocks  are  so  sharp  and  cutting  that 
a  pair  of  ordinary  shoes  are  cut  into  strips  in  the  course 
of  a  few  hours. 

Leaving  the  lava  fields  one  now  turns  his  attention  to 
Zuni,  for  so  do  the  Indians  call  the  mythical  "  Seven  Cities 
of  Cibola"  of  the  early  Spanish  explorers.  On  the  way  we 
pass,  not  far  from  the  home  of  Don  Leopoldo  Mazon,  at 
Tina j  as,  the  interesting  Inscription  Rock,  where  the  explor- 
ers of  two  and  three  hundred,  and  more,  years  ago  left  their 
autographs  upon  the  faces  of  the  cliff.  This  is  one  of  the 
most  fascinating  historic  records  of  the  world.  Many  of 
the  inscriptions  are  as  clear,  almost,  as  the  day  they  were 
written,  and  are  the  unquestioned  work  of  the  men  (or  their 
followers)  whose  names  they  bear  and  whose  journey  ings 
they  briefly  record. 

Juan  de  Onate  (1605),  De  Vargas  (1692),  Silva  Nieto 


"SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA"  141 

(1629),  Juan  Paez  Hurtado  (1736),  Basconzelos  (1726), 
and  Archuleta  (1636),  are  amongst  the  number,  and  the 
dates  are  those  of  the  time  when  they  camped  under  the 
shadow  of  this  imposing  cliff.  One  of  the  inscriptions  is  of 
particular  interest  to  us,  on  account  of  its  reference  to  the 
Zuni  we  are  going  to  visit.  It  is  in  the  abbreviated  Spanish 
of  the  times  and,  translated,  reads:  "They  passed  on  the 
23rd  of  March,  of  the  year  1632,  to  the  avenging  of  the 
death  of  the  Father  Letrado.  (Signed)  Lujan."  Father 
Letrado  was  a  Franciscan  missionary  who  sought  to  intro- 
duce civilization  and  Christianity  to  the  Zunis.  In  Feb- 
ruary, 1630,  they  murdered  him.  The  Governor  of  New 
Mexico,  Francisco  de  la  Mora  Ceballos,  sent  a  handful  of 
soldiers  from  Santa  Fe  under  the  command  of  Colonel 
Tomas  de  Albizu  to  avenge  his  death,  and  it  is  possible  that 
the  Lujan  of  the  inscription  was  a  soldier  of  this  expedition. 
\Yhen  the  soldiers  arrived  at  Zuni,  they  found  the  pueblo 
was  deserted  and  the  people  had  established  themselves  in 
new  homes  on  the  summit  of  Thunder  Mountain,  a  massive 
island  of  rock  a  few  miles  away,  reminding  one  somewhat 
of  the  rock  of  Acoma,  described  in  Chapter  x.  With  great 
tact  and  diplomacy  Albizu  persuaded  them  to  return  to 
their  homes,  and  on  promises  of  amendment  and  future 
good  conduct,  their  murder  of  Father  Letrado  was  for- 
given. 

Of  Zuni  itself  much  might  be  written,  but  space  demands 
that  I  be  brief.  A  most  fascinating  story  of  the  Zunis  is  to 
be  found  in  three  back  numbers  of  the  Century  Magazine, 
dated  December,  1882,  and  February  and  May,  1883,  in 
which  Lieutenant  Frank  H.  Cushing  tells  "  My  Adventures 
in  Zuni,"  and  a  most  exhaustive  but  absorbingly  interesting 


142  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

account  of  these  people  is  presented  in  the  Twenty-third 
Report  of  the  Bureau  of  American  Ethnology,  written  by 
my  learned  friend,  Mrs.  Matilda  Coxe  Stevenson,  as  the 
result  of  many  years  of  life  among  them. 

Zuni  is  now  known  to  have  been  the  Cibola  of  the  search 
of  Coronado  and  the  early  Spanish  conquistadores.  It  was 
in  1540  that  the  swashbuckling  Spaniards  crossed  the  moun- 
tains, the  deserts,  the  sandy  wastes,  and  the  Indian-infested 
regions  of  Northern  Sonora  and  New  Mexico,  but  they 
were  sadly  disappointed  in  that  they  did  not  find  the  same 
fabulous  wealth  that  Cortes  and  Pizarro  had  found  in 
Mexico  and  Peru. 

The  Zuni  of  today  is  an  ordinary  pueblo,  with  a  great 
seven-storied  community  house,  after  the  general  style  of 
Taos.  There  are  many  interesting  things  about  the  people, 
and  a  score  of  fascinating  places  to  visit,  but  I  have  space 
left  in  this  chapter  only  to  record  an  attempt  made  to  kill  a 
witch,  which  I  had  the  pleasure  of  helping  frustrate.  All 
the  Pueblo  Indians  are  believers  in  witchcraft,  and  many  an 
unhappy  victim  has  lost  his  or  her  life  because  someone 
made  an  accusation  of  witchcraft  which  it  was  impossible 
to  refute.  Many  times  I  have  been  present  at  trials  of 
witches,  and  no  outsider  can  possibly  conceive  the  intense 
earnestness  and  the  deadly  fervor  of  the  native  medicine- 
men in  their  desire  to  rid  their  people  of  this  awful,  secret, 
and  therefore  terrible  influence.  The  Zunis  are  in  constant 
fear  of  being  bewitched.  Young  mothers  must  protect  their 
infants,  the  owners  of  fine  beads  and  other  adornments  are 
constantly  in  fear  lest  some  witch  or  wizard,  influenced  by 
jealousy,  should  strike  them  with  disease.  Suspicion  is 
seldom  absent,  and  even  the  lower  animals  are  not  always 


"SEVEN  CITIES  OF  CIBOLA"  143 

safe,  for  it  is  confidently  believed  that  witches  are  able  to 
assume  their  shape  at  will. 

One  of  the  most  noted  personages  of  Zuni  was  Wewha. 
I  knew  her  well.  She  was  a  person  of  great  mental  ability 
and  was  once  taken  across  the  continent  and  became  for 
a  while  the  guest  of  President  Cleveland,  in  the  White 
House. 

She  was  a  man,  who,  for  religious  reasons  connected  with 
the  peculiar  beliefs  of  the  Zunis,  foreswore  his  manhood, 
dressed  as  a  woman,  lived  as  a  woman,  did  all  the  household 
work  of  a  woman,  and  in  every  way  appeared  to  be  one  of 
the  gentler  sex. 

Wewha  was  the  strongest  character  and  the  most  intelli- 
gent Zuni  I  have  ever  had  the  pleasure  of  knowing,  and  it 
was  a  great  grief  to  me  when  I  learned  of  her  death.  Not 
only  did  I  feel  this,  but  the  chief  medicine-men  of  the  Zunis 
felt  it  was  a  great  blow  to  the  tribe,  and  at  once  sought  to 
accuse  someone  of  bewitching  her  and  thus  causing  her 
death.  A  poor  old  woman  named  Melita  was  accused  of  the 
crime.  Blindfolded,  handcuffed,  and  gagged,  she  was  taken 
to  one  of  the  underground  kivas  and  there  bade  confess. 
She  refused.  She  was  then  stripped  naked  and  so  severely 
beaten  that  her  back  was  completely  raw  when  I  found  her 
a  few  days  later.  The  priests  found  her  guilty  and  con- 
demned her  to  death.  The  general  method  of  killing  a 
witch  is  to  tie  the  hands  together  behind  the  body  and  then 
hang  the  poor  creature  up  by  the  thumbs.  Melita  was  thus 
strung  up  until  the  blood  oozed  from  eyes,  ears,  nose,  and 
mouth,  and  the  blood  vessels  of  her  cheeks  burst  with  the 
fearful  pressure. 

Just  as  she  was  in  the  final  stages  of  her  hanging,  between 


144  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

life  and  death,  my  wagon  was  seen  approaching  the  pueblo, 
and  a  messenger  came  rushing  in  to  apprise  Naiuchi  —  the 
chief  priest  —  of  that  fact.  He  ordered  the  execution  sus- 
pended until  I  was  out  of  the  way.  But  I  had  not  been  long 
in  the  village  before  one  of  the  weeping  friends  of  Melita 
succeeded  in  secretly  reaching  me  with  the  news.  For  hours 
I  sought  the  victim  of  the  superstitious  people's  wrath,  and 
when  finally  she  was  found  it  was  with  back,  wrists,  and 
cheeks  fearfully  wounded. 

Medical  attention  was  secured  for  the  poor  old  woman 
and  she  recovered,  and  the  priests  who  assaulted  her  were 
arrested  and  kept  in  prison  for  several  months. 

While  one  is  at  Zuni  he  should  not  fail  to  visit  Thunder 
Mountain,  see  the  figures  that  are  said  to  be  the  sacrificial 
victims  offered  to  appease  the  anger  of  the  gods  who  had 
caused  their  valley  to  be  flooded,  and  also  the  shrines  on  the 
summit  of  the  mountain  to  certain  of  the  Zuni  gods.  It  was 
also  on  the  cliff-faced  precipice  of  this  mountain,  in  a  hidden 
shelter,  that  one  might  search  for  a  lifetime  in  vain,  that  I 
found  the  shrine  of  Unaikah,  their  warrior  god,  a  shrine 
that  no  white  man  had  ever  gazed  upon  before  my  fortunate 
discovery.  These  and  other  interesting  experiences,  espe- 
cially if  one  strikes  the  Zunis  at  the  time  of  their  ceremonial 
dances,  or  races,  will  make  a  trip  to  this  historic  spot  one 
long  to  be  remembered. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

METEORITE  MOUNTAIN  AND  SUNSET  CRATER 

CANYON  of  the  Devil  does  not  sound  polite  in  Eng- 
lish, but  thousands  of  transcontinental  tourists  on 
the  Santa  Fe,  who  would  not  say  it  in  English  for  worlds, 
mouth  it  quite  complacently  in  its  disguising  and  sonorous 
Spanish,  Canyon  Diablo.  And  a  perfect  devil  of  a  canyon 
it  is  to  those  who  have  tried  to  cross  it  in  a  wagon,  or  even 
on  horseback,  or  afoot  —  as  I  have  many  a  time  —  before 
there  were  any  roads  in  the  country  to  speak  of.  Now,  of 
course,  bridges  make  it  easy.  It  is  a  faint  suggestion  of  the 
wonders  of  the  greater  gorge  of  the  Gr?nd  Canyon,  sixty- 
five  miles  to  the  north,  and  gives  one  a  few  delicious  thrills 
as  the  train  passes  over  its  spider-legged,  frail-looking,  but 
scientifically  constructed,  steel-girdered  bridge. 

But  to  the  left,  going  west,  is  a  peculiar  mound-like 
mass,  only  ten  miles  away  to  the  southeast  from  the  station, 
and  two  hundred  feet  in  height.  Walk  up  the  slope  to 
its  top  and  you  find  yourself  on  the  rim  of  a  vast  natural 
bowl  that  is  a  mile  wide  and  about  six  hundred  feet  deep. 
Its  appearance  suggests  that  it  was  once  much  deeper  than 
it  now  is,  and  that  it  has  been  filled  up  with  the  earth,  of 
which  its  forty-acre  bottom  is  now  well  covered. 

At  once  you  exclaim:  An  extinct  volcanic  crater. 
But  if  you  use  your  eyes  all  around  you  will  see  that  that 
cannot  be,  for  there  is  not  the  slightest  evidence  of  volcanoes. 

145 


146 

Long  before  the  theory  now  accepted  was  propounded, 
I  was  assured  it  was  not  a  volcano. 

How  was  it  formed? 

Nobody  knows,  though  scientists  and  wiseacres  generally 
have  spun  theories,  many  and  varied,  about  it.  The  best  of 
these  and  the  one  generally  accepted  is  that  a  meteorite, 
hurling  itself  through  the  sky  from  some  far-away  planet, 
and  startling  the  night  gazers  on  the  Arizona  deserts  in  some 
long- forgotten  age  with  its  brilliant  trail  of  light,  suddenly 
struck  the  earth  at  this  spot,  landed  and  remained  there, 
possibly  exploding  as  it  fell,  and  throwing  off  some  portions 
of  its  solid  substance  in  a  shower  which  scattered  in  every 
direction. 

At  Canyon  Diablo  one  can  well  see  and  study  the  various 
rocky  layers  of  which  this  plateau  is  formed.  On  top  there 
is  a  covering  of  red  sandstone,  which  is  much  worn  in  places 
by  the  carving  and  eroding  processes  of  nature.  Below  this 
is  a  layer,  three  hundred  feet  thick,  of  limestone,  and  then 
comes  a  layer  of  white  sandstone,  five  hundred  feet  thick. 

But  in  the  "crater"  of  Meteorite  Mountain  these  strata 
are  all  tipped  and  twisted,  distorted,  and  smashed  in  every 
direction.  As  Dr.  J.  A.  Munk  carefully  describes  it : 

The  displaced  strata  of  rocks  in  the  hole  are  tilted  and  stand 
outwards  and  great  boulders  of  red  sandstone  and  limestone 
l^y  scattered  all  about.  If  the  hole  had  been  made  by  an  ex- 
plosion from  below  large  pieces  of  rock  from  each  of  the  dif- 
ferent rock  strata  would  have  been  thrown  out ;  but,  while  as 
first  stated,  there  are  plenty  of  huge  blocks  of  red  sandstone 
and  limestone,  there  are  no  large  pieces  of  white  sandstone. 
After  the  superficial  layers  of  rock  had  been  broken  up  and 
expelled  en  masse,  the  deeper  rock  of  white  sandstone,  being 
more  confined,  could  not  reach  the  surface  in  the  shape  of 
boulders,  but  had  first  to  be  broken  up  and  ground  to  powder 


.  .    ^v-/'-' 


of   J7.  5".   Geological  Survey 

METEORITE  MOUNTAIN,  ARIZONA 

INSIDE  VIEW 


Photo  by  author 

MESA  OVERLOOKING  LAVA  FIELDS 

CEBOLLITA,   ARIZONA 


METEORITE  MOUNTAIN  147 

before  it  could  escape.  Then  the  white  sandstone,  in  the 
form  of  fine  sand,  was  blown  skywards  by  the  collision  and 
afterwards  settled  down  upon  the  mountain.  It  is  covered 
with  this  white  sand,  which  could  have  come  only  out  of  the 
big  hole,  as  there  is  no  other  white  sand  or  sandstone  found 
anywhere  else  upon  the  entire  plain.* 

An  Indian  trader  living  at  Canyon  Diablo,  working  out 
the  theory  for  himself,  decided  that  the  crater  was  formed 
by  a  meteorite  and  he  began  to  look  around  for  pieces  of  the 
heavenly  visitant.  In  a  year  or  two  he  had  gathered  about 
ten  tons  of  meteorites,  varying  in  size  from  the  fraction  of 
an  ounce  to  one  thousand  pounds  and  more.  As  this  was 
worth  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  dollar  a  pound,  this  field  of 
Nature's  sowing  was  more  profitable  to  him  than  skinning 
Navahos,  Hopis,  or  the  chance  tourists  that  came  along. 
The  smaller  pieces  were  found  on  or  near  the  rim,  and  they 
increased  in  size  in  proportion  as  they  were  distant  from 
the  crater,  until  on  a  circle  eight  miles  out,  the  largest  piece 
was  found.  The  largest  number  were  found  on  the  east  side. 

Many  tests  have  been  made  by  scientists  in  their  endeavors 
to  account  for  the  peculiar  configuration  of  the  mountain. 
Professor  Gilbert,  of  the  United  States  Geological  Survey, 
finally  decided  to  try  the  magnetic  test.  He  assumed  that 
if  such  a  meteorite  was  embedded  in  the  crater  it  would 
surely  reveal  itself  by  magnetic  attraction.  But  although 
the  finest  modern  appliances  were  used,  and  a  variety  of 
experiments  undertaken,  the  results  were  all  negative. 

The  trader  found  that  the  meteorites  he  had  picked  up 
were  non-magnetic,  hence  he  reasoned  that  that  fact  did  not 
dispose  of  the  idea  that  there  might  be  a  vast  mass  of  the 

0 

*  Arizona  Sketches,  by  J.  A.  Munk;  M.  D.,  p.  154.  The  Grafton  Press, 
New  York. 


148  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

meteor  still  in  the  crater  which  no  magnetic  test  would 
reveal.  In  continuing  his  experiments  this  unlettered  man 
discovered  that  all  around  the  mountain  small  pieces  of  iron 
were  scattered,  looking  somewhat  like  the  scales  that  fall 
from  iron  while  being  pounded,  when  red  hot,  upon  the 
anvil.  These  he  called  "iron  shale,"  and  contended  that 
they  were  dead  scales  which  fell  from  the  meteor,  caused  by 
the  friction  of  the  atmosphere,  ere  it  struck  the  earth.  In 
his  various  tests  he  was  greatly  surprised  to  find  that  these 
iron  scales  were  not  only  highly  magnetic,  but  possessed 
polarity  in  a  marked  degree.  Here  was  a  curiosity ;  indeed 
an  anomaly,  to  find  that  these  scales  had  strong  magnetic 
polarity,  a  property  of  electricity  that  is  as  mysterious  and 
wonderful  as  electricity  itself. 

Now  let  Dr.  Munk  tell  of  further  wonders: 

Another  peculiarity  of  the  Canyon  Diablo  meteorite  is  that 
it  contains  diamonds.  When  the  meteorite  was  first  discovered 
by  a  Mexican  sheep-herder  he  supposed  he  had  found  a  large 
piece  of  silver,  because  of  its  great  weight  and  lustre,  but  he 
was  soon  informed  of  his  mistake.  Not  long  afterward  a 
white  prospector,  who  heard  of  the  discovery,  undertook  to 
use  it  to  his  own  advantage,  by  claiming  that  he  had  found  a 
mine  of  pure  iron,  which  he  offered  for  sale.  In  an  attempt 
to  dispose  of  the  property  samples  of  the  ore  were  sent  east 
for  investigation.  Some  of  the  stone  fell  into  the  hands  of 
Dr.  Foote  (the  eminent  geologist  of  Philadelphia),  who  pro- 
nounced it  to  be  a  meteorite  and  of  celestial  origin.* 

Sir  William  Crookes,  F.R.S.,  tells  the  story  of  Dr. 
Foote's  discovery  of  the  diamonds: 

An  ardent  mineralogist,  the  late  Dr.  Foote,  in  cutting  a  sec- 
tion of  this  meteorite,  found  the  tools  were  injured  by  some- 

*  Arizona 


METEORITE  MOUNTAIN  149 

thing  vastly  harder  than  metallic  iron,  and  an  emery  wheel 
used  in  grinding  the  iron  had  been  ruined.  He  examined  the 
specimen  chemically,  and  soon  after  announced  to  the  scientific 
world  that  the  Canyon  Diablo  meteorite  contained  black  and 
transparent  diamonds.  This  startling  discovery  was  after- 
ward verified  by  Professors  Friedel  and  Moissan,  who  found 
that  the  Canyon  Diablo  meteorite  contained  the  three  varieties 
of  carbon  —  diamond  (transparent  and  black),  graphite,  and 
amorphous  carbon.  Since  this  revelation  the  search  for  dia- 
monds in  meteorites  has  occupied  the  attention  of  chemists  all 
over  the  world.* 

Another  interesting  phenomenon  to  be  seen  on  the  main 
line  of  the  Santa  Fe,  a  few  miles  east  of  Flagstaff,  is  Sunset 
Peak.  This  whole  region  is  one  closely  allied  in  its  evi- 
dences of  volcanic  activity  to  the  San  Mateo  region  still 
further  east,  and  which  is  described  in  Chapter  xn.  There 
are  many  extinct  volcanoes,  and  miles  and  miles  of  lava. 
Sunset  Peak  is  the  most  interesting,  though  not  the  largest 
of  these  craters. 

It  matters  not  what  hour  of  the  day  you  gaze  upon  it,  or 
how  cloudy  the  weather,  this  peak  is  always  flooded  — 
apparently  —  with  sunshine.  There  have  been  many  ex- 
planations given  of  this,  but  a  careful  study  and  a  number 
of  visits  to  Sunset  Peak  have  satisfied  me  that  there  is  but 
one  rational  explanation,  and  that  is  as  follows :  The  rock 
covering  the  upper  portion  is  composed  largely  of  iron, 
which,  decomposed  and  rusted,  gives  a  peculiar  glowing  red, 
and  this,  seen  through  the  clear  Arizona  atmosphere,  even 
on  cloudy  days,  suggests  the  appearance  of  sunset. 

*  Arizona  Sketches. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

OVER  THE  APACHE  TRAIL  TO  THE  ROOSEVELT 

DAM 

THERE  are  certain  first  impressions  that  remain  for  a 
lifetime.  An  inlander's  first  glimpse  of  the  ocean; 
a  torrid  zone  native's  first  experience  of  a  snowstorm;  a 
traveler's  first  glimpse  of  Jerusalem,  Constantinople,  Mos- 
cow, Rome,  London,  or  New  York ;  a  ride  in  a  dirigible  or 
aeroplane,  these  all  belong  to  that  category.  In  the  same 
class,  practically,  I  place  my  ride  over  the  Arizona  Moun- 
tains from  Globe  to  Phoenix  via  the  Roosevelt  Dam.  Phoe- 
nix is  the  capital  city  of  Arizona,  in  the  heart  of  the 
growingly  fertile  acres  of  the  Salt  River  Valley;  Globe  is  a 
mining  and  cattle-raising  city  high  up  in  the  widened-out 
canyon  folds  of  the  foothills  of  the  Final  Range.  Midway 
between  the  two,  rudely  speaking,  stands  the  Roosevelt  Dam, 
and  the  vast  lake  it  has  backed  up  —  a  body  of  water  that 
looks  singularly  at  home  in  the  bottom  of  what  might  well 
once  have  been  the  bed  of  a  mountain-surrounded  inland  sea. 
The  distance  is  1 18  miles.  We  made  it  in  eight  and  a  half 
hours,  in  February,  1915,  a  week  after  Arizona  had  experi- 
enced one  of  her  ten-year-intervaled  fierce  rainstorms,  and, 
therefore,  the  roads  were  not  in  the  best  of  condition. 
Wesley  A.  Hill,  of  Phoenix,  conceived  the  idea  that  many 
travelers,  even  residents  of  Globe  and  Phoenix,  as  well  as 
visitors  from  the  great  outside  world  of  travel,  would  enjoy 

150 


0  § 

H    g 
cJ    x 


O 
O 


w 

K 


ROOSEVELT  DAM  151 

a  safe  and  rapid  automobile  ride  over  this  route,  so,  when 
the  road  was  completed  from  Roosevelt  to  Globe,  he  put  on 
a  line  of  seven-seated  cars  and  began  to  carry  passengers. 
No  indifferent  or  careless  chauffeur  can  take  the  wheel  for 
such  a  trip;  nor  can  he  be  a  weakling  or  a  coward.  It 
requires  vigilance  almost  every  minute,  strength  to  pilot  a 
car  up  and  down  the  grades,  and  courage  and  knowledge  to 
take  the  curves  at  a  safe  margin  without  making  the  trip  too 
tedious. 

Four  names  kept  ringing  the  changes  in  my  mind  as  we 
rode  along  —  five  of  us  besides  the  chauffeur,  a  jolly,  rugged 
athlete,  named  Jimmy.  These  were  Dante,  Milton,  Poe,  and 
Dore.  A  Ruskin,  even  a  Mark  Twain,  could  not  have  done 
justice  to  the  scenes.  Only  the  master-intellects  of  the  cen- 
turies in  imaginative,  creative  power  could  place  before  the 
world  the  wonder,  the  wild,  weird  marvel  of  it  all,  the 
sublimity,  the  majesty,  the  vast  expanse.  There  were  prac- 
tically only  three  great  "  divides  "  made  on  the  trip,  the  first 
reached,  after  riding  seventeen  miles  from  Globe,  when  the 
sweep  of  the  prehistoric  lake  site  now  occupied  by  the 
dammed-up  waters  of  the  Tonto  and  the  Salt  was  spread 
out  before  us;  the  second,  after  ascending  the  Fish  Creek 
hill,  about  sixty  miles  from  Roosevelt,  or  the  same  distance 
east  of  Phoenix;  and  the  third  as  we  topped  the  crest  of  a 
ridge  sweeping  north  from  the  Superstition  Range  towards 
Salt  River,  when  the  expansive  view  of  the  Salt  River 
Valley  was  laid,  panorama-like,  before  our  enraptured 
vision. 

Dante  could  have  pictured  images  to  make  clear  the  in- 
choate and  vague  suggestions  of  the  mind ;  images  that  one 
felt  were  there,  that  began  to  form,  but  were  immediately 


152  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

dispelled  by  others  equally  vague  and  impalpable,  and  that 
never  came  into  actual  sight.  Milton,  in  strong,  sonorous 
verse  might,  perhaps,  have  been  able  to  make  verbal  descrip- 
tion of  the  stupendous  vastness  of  the  scenes,  and  the 
sublime  emotions  they  aroused  in  one's  soul.  Poe  might 
have  evoked  weird  word  pictures  of  some  of  the  rocks  and 
tree  forms  that  accompanied  us  on  most  of  the  trip,  and 
Dore  alone,  perhaps,  of  all  artists,  could  have  given  the 
finishing  touch  by  suggesting  how  these  wonderful  scenes 
came  into  existence. 

Could  any  of  these  masters  in  their  respective  spheres 
have  seen  what  we  saw,  that  any  traveler  now  may  see  as 
easily  as  he  may  ride  from  one  city  to  another,  he  would 
have  added  ten-fold  to  his  potentialities  as  an  artist,  and 
incalculable-fold  to  the  expansion  of  his  capacities  toward 
completer  expression. 

Hence,  how  absurd  for  me  to  attempt  any  description  of 
this  unique,  this  sublime,  this  memorable  trip.  I  shall  make 
no  attempt.  All  I  propose  to  do  is  to  give  the  reader  a 
suggestion  of  some  of  the  meager  and  inadequate  thoughts 
that  did  struggle  to  the  surface,  and  that  may  induce  him  to 
want  to  take  this  ride  for  his  own  inspiration  and  delectation. 

It  is  an  inspiring  sight  to  stand  in  one  of  the  active 
mining  camps  of  California.  There  are  so  many  dead 
camps  that  where  they  are  alive  the  sensation  is  decidedly 
pleasing.  And  Globe  and  Miami  are  both  active,  employing 
hundreds  of  men,  turning  out  thousands  of  tons  of  ore,  and 
a  correspondingly  large  amount  of  bullion. 

When  we  reach  the  summit  of  the  ridge  which  leads  us 
down  to  the  Roosevelt  Reservoir  all  mining  activity  is  left 
behind.  A  new  and  strange  world  at  once  lies  before  us. 


Photo  by  J.  C.  McCMoch 

ON  THE  ROAD  TO  ROOSEVELT  DAM 


ARIZONA  DESERT  NEAR  PHOENIX 


NEAR  FISH  CREEK  HILL 


ROOSEVELT  DAM  153 

Did  you  ever  try  to  conceive  how  the  bottom  of  the  ocean 
would  appear  if  the  water  were  suddenly  to  recede  and  it 
became  dry  land  ?  Here  you  have  it  exactly.  And  it  does 
not  require  much  stretch  of  the  imagination  to  conceive  that 
the  weird  cactuses,  ocatillas,  saguaros,  yuccas,  and  other 
strange  growths  of  the  desert  are  the  remnants  of  the  sub- 
merged forests  of  the  sea-bed  of  millions  of  ages  agone, 
and  one  almost  expects  to  see  dinosauruses,  ichthyosauruses, 
and  other  monster  reptiles  moving  about  in  their  shade,  or 
to  see  the  gigantic  plesiosauruses  and  pterodactyls  that  used 
to  paddle  in  or  fly  over  the  waters,  or  the  mammoths, 
megatheriums,  and  mastodons  that  were  wont  to  come  and 
drink  of,  and  bathe  in,  its  cooling  flood.  How  Dore  would 
have  reveled  in  this  place!  Possibly  his  Deluge  pictures 
would  have  been  far  more  wonderful  had  he  had  anything 
like  this  before  him  to  stimulate  his  vivid  imagination. 

These  ideas  sprang  into  being  as  we  swooped  down, 
down,  down  from  the  ridge,  mile  after  mile,  towards  the 
great  reservoir.  Those  who  have  seen  an  accomplished 
aeroplanist,  like  Art  Smith,  alight  after  one  of  his  sensa- 
tional flights,  when,  like  an  eagle,  he  drops  from  an  eleva- 
tion of  1,000  feet  or  more  to  the  grassy  lawn  from  which  he 
started,  will  understand  what  I  mean  by  "swooped." 
Though  we  were  on  wheels,  and  bumped  somewhat  on  the 
rough  portions  of  the  road,  it  was  as  near  to  an  aeroplane's 
flight  as  a  non-flying  machine  could  make.  And  as  far  as 
manipulation  of  the  motor  was  concerned,  I  think  the  mani- 
festation of  coolness,  skill,  and  practical  knowledge  is  in 
favor  of  our  chauffeur.  Sharp  curves,  down  grades,  sudden 
steep  up-grades,  precipices  to  the  right  of  us,  precipices  to 
the  left  of  us,  streams  to  ford,  some  shallow  and  rocky, 


154  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

others  deep  and  quick-sandy  —  it  required  prompt,  skilful, 
and  expert  handling. 

At  first  before  us  and  then  to  our  right  spread  out  the 
great  lake  formed  by  the  inflowing  and  retained  waters  of 
the  Salt  and  Tonto  Rivers.  A  lake  —  an  inland  sea  —  yet 
only  a  small  remnant  of  what  once  undoubtedly  existed  here. 
Man,  in  erecting  the  Roosevelt  Dam,  has  simply  replaced 
some  of  Nature's  own  masonry,  which,  after  erecting,  and 
using,  doubtless,  for  countless  centuries  to  hold  in  the  accu- 
mulating waters  of  this  vast  inland  lake,  she  demolished,  in 
order  to  transact  other  operations  elsewhere  with  the  waters 
she  no  longer  desired  to  keep  imprisoned  within  these  walls. 

For  thirty  miles  or  so  we  rode  along  near  to  this  vast 
reservoir,  one  of  the  greatest  artificial  lakes  in  the  world, 
with  a  capacity  ten  times  greater  than  that  of  the  Croton 
Reservoir  which  supplies  New  York  City  with  water,  and 
far  more  than  that  retained  by  the  Assouan  Dam  in  the 
Upper  Nile.  Indeed,  there  is  water  enough  stored  here  to 
cover  the  whole  state  of  Delaware  a  foot  deep,  or  to  fill  a 
canal  three  hundred  feet  wide  and  nineteen  feet  deep,  ex- 
tending from  San  Francisco  to  Chicago. 

Passing  by  the  little  town  of  Roosevelt,  we  soon  approach 
the  dam.  A  fine  roadway  tops  it,  over  which  we  cross  and 
recross.  It  widens  from  the  bottom  up  to  conform  to  the 
width  of  the  canyon,  or  gorge,  which  it  dams.  At  the  bot- 
tom it  is  235  feet  from  left  to  right,  while  at  the  top  it  is 
680  feet.  Measured  up  and  down  stream,  at  the  bottom  it 
is  1 68  feet,  and  it  extends  284  feet  upwards  above  the 
lowest  foundations.  Its  solid  contents  are  329,400  cubic 
yards.  Its  shape  is  an  arch,  with  the  curve  made  to  resist 
the  pressure  of  the  water  on  the  reservoir  side,  and  for  220 


ROOSEVELT  DAM  155 

feet  its  masonry  is  exposed  to  the  water.  The  watershed 
that  supplies  the  water  of  the  reservoir  is  about  6,260  square 
miles  in  extent,  and  in  1915,  for  the  first  time,  it  was  full  to 
overflowing.  Great  rejoicings  were  held  at  this  time,  as  for 
quite  a  lengthened  period  it  insured  water  for  the  irrigation 
of  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  acres  dependent  upon  it. 

From  now  on  our  road  is  a  rocky  shelf,  cut  out  of  the 
wild  mountain  side  —  the  gorge  down  which  the  Salt  River 
used  to  flow  and  dash  and  roar,  in  unrestrained  turbulence. 
Now,  however,  only  the  overflow  is  allowed  to  run,  and 
whatever  amount  is  needed  for  immediate  irrigation  day  by 
day.  This  road  was  constructed  by  the  United  States  Recla- 
mation Service  in  order  to  render  access  possible  to  the  dam 
while  it  was  in  process  of  erection.  The  main  work  upon 
it  was  done  by  Apache  Indians,  who  proved  to  be  the  most 
reliable  workers  the  officials  could  secure  in  Arizona.  After 
a  long  stretch  of  descent,  it  began  an  irregular  and  typical 
mountain  course,  now  up,  now  down,  winding  and  twisting 
wherever  the  engineers  could  best  find  good  grade  and 
course.  All  around  us  were  objects  of  interest  engaging 
our  attention  until  we  reach  Fish  Creek,  where  a  real,  rude, 
rough-and-ready,  old-fashioned,  pioneer-station  meal  was 
served.  From  now  on  for  a  few  miles  the  road  is  a  con- 
stant thriller.  For  a  mile  or  so  it  seems  to  lead  us  into  a 
"blind  canyon"  —  one  without  any  outlet.  Narrower  and 
narrower  it  grows,  until  we  make  a  swing  to  the  right  and 
fairly  climb  up  a  shelf,  cut  out  of  the  solid  granite  wall, 
which  seemed  as  if  it  would  hem  us  in. 

This  is  a  real  climb.  Though  well  engineered,  carefully 
graded,  and  well  constructed,  it  is  a  good  test  of  motor, 
chauffeur,  and  the  nerves  of  passengers.  At  the  summit,  off 


156  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

we  go  again,  with  ups  and  downs,  that  in  places  remind  u<^ 
of  the  sweeping  down  of  the  sea  gull,  or  a  mechanical  ren- 
dition on  a  sloping  road  of  the  eagle's  descent  in  flight. 
Gigantic  and  towering  rocks  are  to  our  right,  sand-carved 
and  storm-weathered,  until  they  are  demon  forms  for  Dore 
to  picture,  and  then  we  come  to  our  last  summit,  near  the 
Superstition  Mountains,  where  we  get  our  last  great,  won- 
derful, all-embracing  valley  view.  Here  is  the  Salt  River 
Valley  lying  at  our  feet. 

It  is  like  an  epoch- forming  period  in  a  man's  life.  Behind 
him  is  the  great  wild  waste,  then  the  restraining  dam  that 
holds  back  the  vivifying  and  renewing  water,  and  now  he  is 
on  the  crest,  before  sailing  forth  into  life  again.  All  its 
opportunities,  its  possibilities,  its  potentialities,  are  typified 
in  the  glorious  valley  ahead.  Not  yet  developed,  awaiting 
the  quickening  touch  of  man's  hand,  the  vivifying  influences 
of  man's  work,  genius,  and  love,  it  will  spring  forth  into 
fertility,  abundance,  and  the  happiness  that  come  with  work 
well  done.  Of  course,  there  is  enough  of  development 
actually  accomplished  to  demonstrate  what  may  and  will  be 
done  in  the  next  twenty  years. 

On  we  go  through  Mesa,  Tempe,  past  the  State  Normal 
School,  through  the  Cactus  Park,  recently  set  aside  by  the 
state  and  the  city  of  Phoenix  as  a  place  where  the  native 
growths  will  be  preserved  forever,  into  Phoenix,  the  heart 
of  the  Garden  of  Allah  —  once  a  desolate,  barren,  heat- 
stricken  waste,  now  one  of  the  gardens  of  the  world. 

It  is  hard  to  realize  that  this  region  and  all  the  adjacent 
country  is  the  land  of  the  Apaches.  Here  they  once  roamed 
in  fearless  freedom,  the  lords  of  the  land  and  monarchs  of 
all  they  surveyed,  for  there  were  few  who  dared  to  molest 


ROOSEVELT  DAM  157 

or  make  them  afraid.  For  centuries  they  had  been  regarded 
by  their  fellow  aborigines  as  the  most  fierce  and  warlike, 
the  most  independent,  self-reliant,  and  self-assertive.  The 
Spaniards  and  Mexicans  could  do  but  little  with  them,  and 
the  United  States  found  them  a  hard  problem  when  they 
took  possession  of  the  land. 

I  have  not  the  space  here  to  tell  of  the  exploits  of  these 
warlike  people.  Their  full  history  will  never  be  written. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  they  fully  understood  the  real  art  of 
war;  the  power  to  kill  without  being  killed,  the  strategy 
that  forever  dogs  the  steps  of  the  enemy,  gives  him  no  rest, 
falls  upon  him  unexpectedly,  and  escapes  without  injury 
after  dealing  deadly  blows.  Who  can  forget  —  whoever 
knew  the  facts  —  that  Geronimo,  the  last  great  Apache  chief, 
with  thirty-three  full-grown  men,  eight  boys,  and  ninety-two 
women  and  children,  went  on  the  warpath,  and  in  less  than 
a  year  had  killed  between  three  and  four  hundred  people 
in  the  United  States  and  Mexico,  and,  as  Charles  F.  Lummis 
puts  it: 

Despite  the  untiring  pursuit  of  the  most  experienced  and 
most  successful  Indian-fighter  our  army  has  ever  had,  they  lost 
but  two  of  their  own  number,  killed.  A  dozen  of  their  women 
and  children  were  captured  after  a  campaign  whose  activity 
and  hardships  no  civilized  war  could  parallel ;  and  a  mixed 
three-score  at  last  came  in,  of  their  own  free  will,  to  rest  from 
their  travels.  After  that,  for  six  months,  the  remaining  twenty 
warriors,  hampered  by  fourteen  women,  baffled  the  fairly 
frantic  pursuit  of  two  thousand  soldiers,  pushed  by  an  able 
general,  not  to  mention  several  thousand  Mexican  soldiers. 
They  killed  something  less  than  a  hundred  people,  kept  Sonora, 
Chihuahua,  Arizona,  and  New  Mexico  on  the  tip-toe  of  terror, 
and  never  lost  a  man !  * 

*  The  Land  of  Poco  Tiempo,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  New  York. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  CANYON  OF  CATARACTS ,  AND  THE  HAVASU- 
PAI  INDIANS 

IN  all  ages  men  have  sought  out  strange  and  peculiar  loca- 
tions for  their  dwelling  places.  In  the  accompanying 
pages  many  of  these  are  described  in  all  their  quaintness, 
picturesqueness,  novelty,  and.  pathos.  But  it  is  to  be 
doubted  whether  any  home  ever  found  by  men  in  any 
period  of  the  world's  history  is  so  wonderful,  grand, 
strange,  and  picturesque  as  that  of  the  Havasupai  Indians  in 
the  Cataract  Canyon. 

Several  travelers  and  explorers  have  described  this  abori- 
ginal dwelling  place  —  Garces,  that  indefatigable  Franciscan 
friar,  who,  feeling  the  burden  upon  his  heart  of  the  souls 
of  all  the  Indians  he  might  reach,  sought  them  out  in  order 
to  give  them,  through  the  offices  of  Holy  Mother  Church, 
the  inestimable  blessing  of  immortal  life;  Lieutenant  Ives, 
who  in  1847  came  into  the  region  to  his  immense  amaze- 
ment and  bewilderment,  and  the  physician  of  whose  expe- 
dition had  a  startling  and  surprising  adventure  with  the 
Indians ;  General  Crook,  the  Apache  fighter  and  conqueror ; 
and  Lieutenant  F.  H.  Cushing,  who,  in  three  of  the  most 
interesting  articles  he  ever  wrote,  in  the  Atlantic  Monthly, 
told  of  his  journey  thither  and  experiences  crossing  the 
desert  from  Zuni. 

It  is  getting  on  towards  thirty  years  ago  since  I  first 

158 


THE  HAVASUPA1  INDIANS  159 

visited  this  canyon  in  the  company  of  W.  W.  Bass,  the  noted 
Grand  Canyon  guide,  and  the  impressions  then  received, 
often  since  renewed,  are  almost  as  vivid  and  fresh'  as  when 
gained.  For  this  is  no  every-day  trip  that  one  may  take  and 
class  with  others  of  like  nature  It  is  as  strange,  as  unique, 
as  purely  individualistic  as  are  one's  experiences  at  the 
Grand  Canyon,  the  Petrified  Forest,  Crater  Lake,  the 
Yosemite,  or  the  Yellowstone. 

There  are  three  known  trails  into  these  hidden  and  mys- 
terious depths  —  the  Wallapai,  Zuni,  and  Topocobya  trails. 
Each  is  more  wonderful,  awe-inspiring,  and  fascinatingly 
thrilling  than  the  others.  In  spite  of  the  apparent  "bull" 
in  this  statement  it  is  perfectly  true  in  this  sense,  namely, 
that  whichever  trail  you  last  take  it  is  the  one  that  most 
impresses  you,  no  matter  how  often  you  descend,  and  how 
much  you  vary  the  order  in  which  you  descend. 

My  first  trip  was  down  the  Topocobya  trail.  A  topocobya 
is  the  half-moon  curve  described  by  the  sweep  of  the  opened 
thumb  and  finger,  and  most  graphically  suggests  the  shape 
of  the  colossal  rocky  walls  on  which  the  trail  is  built,  en- 
engineered,  and  pecked,  and  down  which  one  descends  at  one 
fell  swoop  for  over  a  thousand  feet.  It  is  a  hair-raising 
spot  to  look  at,  and  in  those  early  days,  when  none  but 
moccasined  Indians  and  wild  goats,  and  an  occasional 
adventurous  or  Indian-bedeviled  burro  clambered  up  or 
down,  and  no  real  attempt  had  ever  been  made  to  render  it 
more  than  a  scrambling  place,  it  was  almost  as  risky  as 
putting  a  hempen  noose  around  one's  neck,  securely  fas- 
tening it  to  a  strong  bough,  and  then  jumping  from  an  ele- 
vated position,  just  to  see  how  it  feels  to  dangle  without 
the  ability  to  touch  bottom. 


160  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

The  Indians  were  our  guides,  and  they  brought  their  own 
ponies  and  burros  for  our  conveyance  from  the  foot  of  the 
trail,  down  the  long,  winding,  rocky  canyon  stream-bed 
which,  mile  after  mile,  went  deeper  and  deeper,  cutting 
through  stratum  after  stratum,  some  of  the  walls  as  regular 
as  if  laid  by  gigantic  masons,  others  crowned  with  figures  as 
wild,  rugged,  and  fantastic  as  if  demons  and  fiends,  fallen 
angels  and  fallen  men  had  sought  to  construct  Gargantuan 
gargoyles  of  all  the  Quilps,  Quasimodos,  and  other  hideous 
and  repulsive  figures  of  fiction. 

At  last,  at  a  depth  of  nearly  5,000  feet  below  the  ele- 
vated plateau  from  which  we  had  descended,  the  village  of 
the  Indians  was  reached.  Our  journey  all  the  way  down 
had  been  practically  waterless,  save  for  a  few  fugitive 
bucketfuls,  conserved  by  nature-made  rock  reservoirs  in 
shady  places.  Suddenly  the  murmur,  rush,  splash,  and  gur- 
gle of  running,  flowing,  dashing  water  was  heard,  and  on 
one  side  of  the  narrow  canyon,  under  immense  patriarchal 
cottonwood  trees,  a  thousand  springs  burst  forth,  sparkling 
and  free,  from  their  imprisonment  beneath  the  rocky  strata. 
Rushing  together,  as  though  with  set  purpose  and  pre- 
arranged accord,  they  united  and  formed  quite  a  sizable 
stream,  which  immediately  headed  away  down  the  canyon, 
lined  on  either  side  with  a  dense  jungle  of  willows,  ten, 
fifty,  a  hundred  yards  wide,  and  the  green  of  which  con- 
trasted joyously  with  the  vivid  reds  and  dark  chocolates  of 
the  sandstone  walls.  Never  more  than  half  a  mile  wide,  and 
narrowing  and  widening  again  in  irregular  fashion,  the 
walls,  sheer  precipices  upwards  of  two  thousand  feet  high, 
rising  then  on  sloping  taluses  to  walls  further  back,  another 
thousand  or  more  high,  and  these  back  to  others  still  higher, 


Photo  by  George  Wharton  James 

MOONEY  FALLS,  HAVASU  CANYON 


THE  HAVASVPAI  INDIANS  161 

what  a  site  for  human  beings  to  have  selected  as  their  chosen 
dwelling  place !  Yet  here  from  time  immemorial  have  lived 
the  Havasupai  —  pai,  people,  of  the  haha,  water,  vasu,  blue 

—  the  people  of  the  blue  water;  or,  as  Gushing  poetically 
termed  them,  "  the  Nation  of  the  Willows."    Two  to  three 
hundred  in  number,  seldom  going  over  the  larger  number, 
and  generally  keeping  nearer  to  the  smaller,  living  in  their 
brush  shelters,  or  hawas,  cultivating  corn,  melons,  onions, 
beans,  peaches,  and  making  a  rude  fibrous  bread  from  the 
mescal  (the  Agave  Americana},  eating  acorns,  grass  seeds, 
pinion  nuts,  the  fruit  of  the  yucca  baccata,  and  roots,  rab- 
bits, deer,  and  other  game  when  they  were  fortunate  in 
their    hunts,    keeping    themselves    largely    to    themselves, 
friendly  with  some  outside  tribes  and  trading  with  Navahos, 
Hopis,  Wallapais,  and  Paiutis,  but  hating  and  dreading 
Mohaves,  Utes,  and  Apaches,  they  had  remained  here  almost 
secluded  and  unknown  for  centuries. 

Since  that  first  experience  I  have  visited  them  many 
times;  shared  their  simple  hospitality;  watched  them  in 
their  religious  dances;  engaged  with  them  in  their  cere- 
monial "sweat-bath" — as  fine  a  Russo-Turkish  bath  as 
I  ever  enjoyed  —  studied  their  primitive  cosmogony;  and 
collected  some  of  their  many  fascinating  myths,  legends, 
and  folk  lore. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  or  so  below  the  last  hawa  of  the 
village  is  a  waterfall,  caused  by  the  dashing  of  the  Havasu 

—  blue  water  —  over  a  sudden  drop  in  the  canyon's  floor. 
A  short  distance  beyond  is  another  fall,  wild,  rugged,  pic- 
turesque, where  the  stream  is  broken  up   into  irregular 
masses   and   flows   and   falls   a  hundred    feet   through   a 
tangled  mass  of  bushes,  vines,  and  towering  cottonwood 


162  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

trees.  A  mile  further  and  one  reaches  the  most  exqui- 
sitely beautiful,  gloriously  alluring  waterfall  my  eyes  have 
ever  seen. 

Those  who  have  seen  Mossbrae  Falls,  near  Shasta 
Springs,  on  the  Sacramento  River,  coming  down  from 
Portland,  Oregon,  on  the  Shasta  route  of  the  Southern 
Pacific,  can  form  a  conception  as  to  its  supernal  beauty. 
For  it  is  Mossbrae  enlarged  many  times  and  put  into  a  more 
sublime  environment.  Instead  of  one  column  of  water 
there  are  three  hundred,  four,  five  hundred,  varying  accord- 
ing to  the  extent  of  the  stream's  flow,  and  no  one  column 
exactly  like  any  other. 

At  the  precipice's  edge,  where  the  lip  of  the  fall  should 
be,  the  water  is  spread  out  over  a  rough  and  rugged  table, 
bestrewn  with  trees,  shrubs,  vines,  and  the  fantastic  forms 
of  limestone  accretions  that  have  accumulated  here  during 
the  centuries.  The  water  is  heavily  charged  with  lime  and 
silica,  which  coat  everything  it  touches  and  thus  produce 
"  petrifications,"  so-called,  of  a  thousand  and  one  shapes  and 
sizes.  In  the  region  of  this  waterfall  this  process  has  been 
unusually  active,  for  the  whole  width  of  the  canyon,  1,000 
feet  or  more,  and  for  a  distance  of  more  than  half  a  mile, 
is  literally  full  of  them,  cemented  together  by  the  material 
that  made  them,  and  mixed  up  into  a  chaotic  mass  with  the 
sand  and  silt  that  have  washed  down  at  flood  times. 

The  fall  is  from  150  to  175  feet  high  and  fully  500  feet 
wide.  Though  Mossbrae  suggests  it,  there  are  marked  dif- 
ferences that  set  it  apart  as  a  fall  unique  in  the  scenery  of 
the  world.  The  very  rock  behind  it,  over  which  it  falls, 
seems  to  be  a  petrified  waterfall  of  a  dainty  reddish-tinged 
sandstone.  It  has  all  the  appearances  of  a  waterfall,  and  it 


>  S 


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PQ    > 


Photo  by  author 

THE  WALLAPAI  TRAIL  TO  HAVASU  CANYON 


Photo  by  F.  H.  Maude 

PAGATOCOBA'S  HAWA,  HAVASU  CANYON 


THE  HAVASUPAI  INDIANS  163 

certainly  was  formed  by  the  waterfalls  of  the  past.  The 
moist  heat  of  the  canyon  is  so  conducive  to  plant  and  tree 
growth  that  in  every  little  crevice  where  earth  has  washed 
down  and  found  lodgment  a  vine,  a  shrub,  or  a  tree  has 
sprung  forth  and  grown  with  fervent  exuberance. 

Then  something  has  occurred  to  expose  and  wash  out  a 
portion  of  the  roots  from  their  hiding  places,  and  they  have 
trailed  over  the  rocks  or  in  the  water.  The  lime-charged 
water  has  then  gradually  covered  them  with  its  hardening 
surface;  the  spray  has  dashed  over  the  leaves  and  covered 
them,  and  limbs  of  trees,  small  sticks,  etc.,  that  have  washed 
down  and  lodged  have  likewise  become  petrified,  and  then, 
over  the  lips  of  the  fall,  as  the  water  has  dashed  down,  these 
accumulations  and  accretions  have  formed  umbrella-like 
protrusions  from  the  face  of  the  cliff,  large,  medium-sized, 
small,  down  to  tiny  baby  ones,  with  trailing,  lace-like  edges 
—  fairy  lace  that  absolutely  crumbles  at  a  touch,  or  vanishes 
with  a  strong  breath  of  wind.  And  these  "  umbrellas  "  are 
found  at  all  elevations  in  the  most  picturesque,  haphazard 
arrangement;  yet  the  general  effect  is  harmonious  in  the 
extreme.  So  there  is  the  wonderful  fall,  the  water  foamy 
white,  pouring  down,  through,  over  a  hundred,  five  hundred 
small  and  large  channels,  a  few  of  the  larger  masses  dashing 
down  in  unbroken  columns  to  the  pool  beneath,  but  the 
larger  proportion  falling  only  ten,  twenty,  fifty  feet  upon 
one  of  these  rocky  umbrellas,  or  aprons,  and  bounding  off 
again  in  graceful  curves  in  dashing  spray  and  water  dust,  to 
mingle  with  the  mist  from  other  broken  columns.  Over  all 
the  water  hang  the  admiring  and  protecting  trees,  while  on 
each  side  and  behind  tower  the  sandstone  and  limestone 
cliffs,  in  terraces,  a  thousand,  two  thousand  feet  at  a  step, 


164  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

until  they  lead  the  eye  to  the  peerless  Arizona  sky  over- 
arching the  whole  glorious  and  soul-expanding  scene. 

It  is  entrancing,  enchanting,  bewitching,  and  though  I 
have  gone  back  to  it  again  and  again,  in  the  past  twenty-five 
years,  it  never  loses  that  first  rich  quality  of  fascination,  and 
I  sit  by  its  side,  at  its  foot,  or  on  the  far-away  cliff,  and 
watch  its  dainty  beauty  with  as  much  pleasure  and  joy  as 
when  I  first  beheld  it.  The  Indians  call  it  Wa-ha-hath-peek- 
ha-ha,  the  Mother  of  Waterfalls  —  the  Americans  have 
given  it  their  one  rich,  classic,  time-honored,  and  brilliantly 
imaginative  name,  Bridal  Veil  Falls.* 

But  there  are  two  other  great  falls  in  this  canyon  that 
demand  a  visit.  The  next  one  is  about  a  mile  further  down, 
and  is  called  Mooney  Falls,  after  a  miner  of  the  name  who 
lost  his  life  here  in  a  most  tragic  manner.  From  two  to 
three  hundred  feet  in  height,  it  leaps  over  the  cliff  in  one 
glorious  column  of  sparkling,  sun-kissed,  lacy  water,  that 
suggests  designs  innumerable  for  those  who  create  the  arti- 
ficial adornments  of  women's  lingerie. 

None  but  those  who  really  study  waterfalls  can  know  the 
rare  charm  and  steady  beauty  they  possess.  Most  people 
have  the  idea,  and  many  writers  confirm  it,  that  when  a 
stream  tumbles  over  a  cliff  it  is  a  wild,  chaotic  mass  of 
water  and  spray.  Never  was  there  a  greater  mistake. 
Niagara  is  never  more  serene  and  calm  than  when  its  col- 
umns of  water  stand  upright.  And  so  with  these  Havasu 
Canyon  falls.  There  is  one  divine  outflow  of  energy  when 
the  water  leaves  the  level  and  begins  to  fall.  Then  it 

*Just  before  going  to  press,  my  Grand  Canyon  friend  (Mr.  Bass), 
informed  me  that  a  fierce  flood  had  completely  destroyed  (for  the 
time  being,  at  least)  the  charm  of  this  inexpressibly  beautiful  water- 
fall. I  hope,  however,  that  a  few  years  will  see  it  restored.  Nature 
originally  built  it,  and  she  can  do  so  again. 


THE  HAVASUPAI  INDIANS  165 

divides  into  numberless  comet-like  forms,  the  foamy  head 
and  nucleus  of  each  one  as  clear  as  any  individual  star  in 
the  heavens,  followed  by  their  fan-like  tails,  combed  out 
finer  and  finer  towards  the  end,  and  disappearing  in  the 
general  mist  exactly  as  real  comet-tails  disappear  in  the 
atmosphere. 

The  friction  of  the  air  in  falling,  combs  and  spreads  out 
the  water.  Each  of  these  comets  holds  its  place  and  falls 
in  as  orderly,  steady,  and  uncon  fused  a  manner  as  each 
soldier  takes  his  place  in  regular  drill.  The  eye  can  follow 
each  one  —  though  of  course  it  must  be  done  rapidly  —  as 
certainly  and  surely  as  it  can  follow  a  horse  on  a  race-track. 
The  comet  is  the  general  form  in  the  upper  part  of  the  fall, 
but  lower  down  these  become  so  attenuated  by  air  friction 
as  to  assume  other  misty  but  distinctive  vapor-drapery 
forms,  into  which  sunlight  darts  a  thousand  brilliant  hues, 
air  contributes  a  rare  fineness,  and  the  water  becomes  an 
entirely  different  thing  from  the  solid  though  fluid  sub- 
stance with  which  we  are  commonly  familiar. 

The  next  fall  is  several  miles  farther  down,  and  is  known 
as  Beaver  Falls,  because  of  the  numbers  of  these  active 
rodents  that  used  to  operate  there.  It  is  of  the  same  style 
as  Bridal  Veil  Falls,  but  less  impressive  in  height  and  width. 

Still  farther  down  the  Havasu  enters  a  narrow,  almost 
millrace-like  gorge,  with  sheer  walls  of  thousands  of  feet, 
rising  above  its  foam,  and  after  a  mad  race  in  this  confined 
space,  shoots  its  clear,  though  limy,  waters  into  the  muddy, 
turbulent  stream  of  the  great  Colorado,  which  speedily  ab- 
sorbs them  and  carries  them  out  to  the  far-away  Gulf. 

This  canyon  has  been  made  easily  accessible  to  one  used 
to  horseback  riding  and  camping  out.  W.  W.  Bass,  Grand 


166  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Canyon,  Arizona,  will  make  arrangements  for  the  conduct- 
ing of  individuals  or  parties,  or  the  same  arrangements  may 
be  made  at  El  Tovar,  the  Fred  Harvey  Hotel  at  Grand 
Canyon.  The  distance  from  this  hotel  is  about  fifty  miles, 
thirty-five  of  which  may  be  made  by  wagon,  and  the  rest  of 
the  way  on  the  trails  by  saddle  animals.  Necessarily  it  is  a 
camping-out  trip. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  PETRIFIED  FORESTS  OF  ARIZONA 

HE  ordinary  layman  says  petrified,  the  scientist,  fossil. 
The  dictionary  defines  a  petrification  as  that  which 
has  been  converted  or  made  into  stone;  from  factus,  past 
participle  of  facere,  to  make,  and  petra,  rock.  A  fossil,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  something  dug  out  of  the  earth,  or,  spe- 
cifically, in  late  geological  usage,  anything  that  has  been 
buried  beneath  the  surface  of  the  earth  by  natural  causes  or 
geological  agencies,  and  which  bears  in  its  form  or  chemical 
composition  the  evidence  that  it  is  of  organic  origin. 

As  I  am  a  layman,  and  the  prime  thought  in  connection 
with  the  wood  of  this  ancient  forest  is  that  it  has  been 
changed  into  stone,  I  shall  continue  to  use  in  the  future,  as  I 
have  in  the  past,  the  name  Petrified  Forest. 

This,  certainly,  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world,  for 
here  are  acres  —  scores,  hundreds,  thousands  of  them  — 
dotted  over,  lined,  seamed,  and  permeated  with  the  logs  of 
this  vast  forest  of  the  past — fossilized,  petrified,  agatized, 
thousands  of  tons  of  them  already  exposed  to  the  gaze  of 
man,  and  doubtless  many  thousands  more  waiting  for  the 
slow  processes  of  nature's  exhumation. 

These  petrified  forests  are  closely  adjacent  to  the  main 
line  of  the  Santa  Fe  Railway,  and  not  far  from  the  small 
station  of  Adamana.  Adam  Hanna  was  an  oldtime  pioneer 
of  the  region,  who  used  to  take  tourists  in  the  early  day  to 

167 


168  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

see  the  wonders  near  his  ranch.  His  good  wife,  Maggie, 
who  used  to  sing  in  the  Methodist  church  choir  of  one  of 
the  smaller  churches  in  St.  Louis,  Missouri,  would  cook  for 
them  and  occasionally  "fix  up  a  bed";  so,  when  it  was 
decided  to  put  in  a  station  at  this  point  and  the  Santa  Fe 
officials  wanted  a  name,  this  English-ified  rendering  of 
Adam's  two  names  was  suggested  and  straightway  adopted. 

It  will  be  noticed  I  have  used  the  word  "  forests."  Pos- 
sibly it  is  all  one  forest,  though  it  covers  so  large  an  area, 
but  the  uncovering  process,  so  far  as  it  has  now  gone,  has 
revealed  the  petrifactions  in. three  separate  localities;  and 
when  John  Muir  came  here  a  few  years  ago  for  the  benefit 
of  his  ailing  daughter,  he  rediscovered  another  petrified 
wood  area,  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  region  knew  nothing 
of,  though  it  was  fully  described  in  Wheeler's  Survey,  many 
years  before,  and  I  had  visited  it  and  secured  a  good  sized 
log  of  its  wood,  which  for  years  has  stood  on  my  lawn 
walk  in  Pasadena. 

The  Petrified  Forest  area  is  over  ten  miles  square,  cov- 
ered with  fallen  trees,  generally  broken  into  somewhat  irreg- 
ular lengths,  scattered  in  all  conceivable  positions  and  in 
fragments  of  all  sizes,  the  sections  varying  from  two  to 
twenty  feet  long. 

It  is  about  twenty  miles  from  Holbrook,  Apache  County, 
Arizona,  and  is  naturally  subdivided  into  three  parts,  com- 
monly known  as  the  "  Petrified  Forest,"  "  Chalcedony  Park," 
and  "  Lithodendron  [stone  trees]  Valley."  The  latter  sec- 
tion is  nearest  to  the  little  hotel  at  Adamana.  The  drive 
from  this  side-station  is  about  five  miles,  part  of  it  being 
over  a  sort  of  plain  with  rugged  cliffs  to  be  seen  in  the 
distance,  and  the  Lithodendron  Valley  is  between  two  of 


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THE  PETRIFIED  FOREST,  ARIZONA 


THE  PETRIFIED  FOREST,  ARIZONA 


PETRIFIED  FORESTS  OF  ARIZONA  169 

these  bluffs.  There  are  all  kinds  of  freaks  of  erosion  in 
the  peculiar  colored  soil  of  which  these  bluffs  are  made,  one 
of  them  looking  much  like  an  eagle  with  outspread  wings. 
Upon  reaching  the  region  of  the  petrified  trees  it  is  easy  to 
believe  that  there  are  literally  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
specimens  scattered  on  each  side  of  the  valley  and  up  and 
down  the  slopes. 

Some  of  the  fossil  trees  are  quite  well  preserved.  The 
exposed  part  of  some  of  them  measures  from  one  hundred 
and  fifty  to  two  hundred  feet  in  length  and  from  two  to 
four  and  a  half  feet  in  diameter,  the  roots  sometimes  being 
fully  exposed  and  the  diameter  of  these  portions  most 
surprising. 

The  colors  are  beautiful  and  exquisite  in  the  extreme. 
The  state  of  mineralization  in  which  much  of  the  wood 
exists  almost  places  certain  pieces  in  the  class  of  semi- 
precious stones.  Not  only  are  chalcedony  and  agates  found 
among  them,  but  many  approach  the  condition  of  jasper  and 
onyx. 

On  the  further  side  of  one  of  the  slopes  is  the  interesting 
Petrified  Bridge.  This  consists  of  a  large  petrified  tree 
trunk  lying  across  a  canyon  and  forming  a  natural  foot- 
bridge on  which  men  may  cross.  This  bridge  is  on  the 
northeast  side  of  one  of  the  mesas  near  its  rim.  The  trunk 
is  in  an  excellent  state  of  preservation,  and  is  complete  to 
the  base,  where  it  is  partially  covered,  though  it  shows 
clearly  the  manner  in  which  the  roots  were  attached  while 
the  tree  was  growing.  The  total  length  of  the  tree  that  is 
exposed  is  one  hundred  and  eleven  feet,  more  than  sixty 
feet  of  the  upper  part  of  the  tree  resting  upon  the  left  bank 
of  the  canyon.  Its  diameter  at  the  base  is  about  four  feet, 


170  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

and  at  the  upper  end  is  reduced  to  about  eighteen  inches. 
At  about  the  middle  of  the  canyon  the  tree  measures  ten  feet 
in  circumference.  Most  of  the  trees  are  split  across  in  sec- 
tions or  blocks,  and  there  are  four  of  these  transverse  cracks 
in  the  "bridge." 

It  is  estimated  by  scientists  that  these  trees  grew  many 
millions  of  years  ago,  in  the  dim  ages  when  the  earth  was 
in  the  process  of  making,  and  earthquakes,  uplifts,  and  sub- 
sidences of  the  surface  of  the  earth  were  common.  In 
some  convulsion  of  nature,  possibly  a  great  tornado  or 
flood,  the  whole  forest  area  where  these  trees  grew  must 
have  been  flooded  to  such  an  extent,  and  for  so  long  a  period 
of  time,  that  the  roots  of  the  trees  rotted  and  allowed  them 
to  fall,  or  perhaps  the  flood  was  so  tremendous  in  force  that 
it  washed  away  the  earth  and  floated  away  the  trees  from 
the  place  where  they  grew  to  this  region  where  we  now 
find  them. 

The  most  careful  searching  has  failed  to  find  few,  if 
any,  branches  of  the  trees,  and  but  very  few  of  the  cones 
that  they  used  to  bear,  therefore  it  is  assumed  that  these 
were  broken  off  by  the  turbulent  movements  of  the  flood  and 
carried  away  on  the  surface  of  the  swirling  waters.  The 
trees  being  lodged  in  a  place  where  they  could  not  escape, 
indications  point  to  the  fact  that  they  were  submerged  in 
water  for  many,  many  centuries.  The  land  surrounding  the 
area  of  submergence  undoubtedly  contained  many  minerals, 
and  as  these  were  exposed  to  the  atmosphere  and  disinte- 
grated and  rusted,  they  colored  the  water  in  which  the  trees 
were  lying.  It  is  well  known  that  iron  rust  is  a  deep  red; 
copper  gives  brilliant  yellows  and  purples,  while  other  min- 
erals give  equally  vivid  and  beautiful  colors.  Combined 


PETRIFIED  FORESTS  OF  ARIZONA  171 

with  the  color-giving  minerals  was  a  good  deal  of  silica  or 
lime,  also  held  in  solution  in  the  water.  By  the  exercise  of 
that  wonderful  law  called  capillary  attraction,  the  wood  fiber, 
as  it  decayed  and  washed  away,  left  place  for  the  brilliantly 
colored  matter.  As  days,  weeks,  months,  years,  centuries 
passed  the  process  of  change  from  wood  fiber  to  solid  stone, 
beautifully  colored,  took  place. 

In  the  meantime  there  were  great  volcanic  disturbances  in 
this  region,  and  vast  quantities  of  volcanic  ash  were  cast  out 
over  the  whole  area  until  the  trees  were  buried  in  it  many 
feet  deep.  As  more  millions  of  years  wore  away  the  region 
sank  into  the  primeval  ocean  and  sandstones  and  limestones 
were  washed  over  the  sea  bottom  and  deposited,  until  the 
forest  was  buried  to  a  depth,  some  scientists  say,  of  over 
twenty  thousand  feet. 

Then  this  period  of  subsidence  was  arrested  and  reversed, 
and  the  submerged  area  began  to  lift  again  out  of  the  great 
inland  sea.  This  must  have  been  a  time  of  great  storms 
and  atmospheric  conflicts,  for  little  by  little  the  layers  of 
sandstone  and  limestone  were  disintegrated  and  carried 
away,  perhaps  to  form  the  sands  of  the  Mohave  and  Colo- 
rado deserts.  Finally,  previous  to  our  own  historic  age, 
this  process  of  washing  away  the  accumulated  strata  of  the 
Petrified  Forest  region  was  arrested  and  the  trees  were  left 
exposed  as  we  now  see  them. 

The  forest  is  now  a  national  park  and  thus  guarded  from 
vandalism,  but  there  are  so  many  millions  of  fragments 
scattered  about  on  every  hand  that  no  objection  is  made  to 
visitors  taking  away  small  specimens. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  LURE  OF  THE  ARIZONA  DESERTS 

L~TTLE  by  little  the  Arizona  desert  is  coming  into  its 
own.  People  are  beginning  to  understand  it,  to  love 
it,  instead  of  fearing  and  hating  it.  It  is  no  longer  "the 
country  that  God  forgot,"  but  the  thoughtful  and  discerning 
are  seeing  in  it  "  the  Garden  of  Allah."  Its  wide  expanses, 
eloquent  silences,  glorious  colorings,  purifying  winds,  stim- 
ulating sunshine,  nights  of  calm  allurement,  content  and 
soothing,  its  luminous  stars,  its  radiant  purity,  its  incom- 
prehensibility, mystery,  and  dominating  power  in  most 
singular  fashion  take  full  possession  of  mind,  soul,  and 
body. 

Arizona,  in  its  desert  areas,  is  a  land  still  in  the  making ; 
the  work  is  not  yet  done ;  one  can  see  the  primitive  processes 
in  operation;  the  hand  of  the  Divine  is  still  upon  the  soil. 
And  while  in  the  summer  months  the  temperature  is  high, 
there  is  yet  an  allurement  about  the  desert  climate  that  those 
who  know  it  can  never  resist.  The  nights  are  so  cool, 
refreshing,  and  pure,  one  feels  that  here,  indeed,  is  the  air 
the  angels  breathe;  its  purity  is  to  be  felt,  a  definite,  dis- 
tinct, positive  reality  that  thrills  with  its  potency.  Then  the 
coloring  of  the  desert  enchants  the  senses.  Morning  and 
night,  sunrise  and  sunset,  are  alike  gorgeous  and  brilliant. 
One  never  becomes  blase  to  their  panoramic  splendors ;  their 
startling  surprises;  every  morning  one  arises  and  antici- 

172 


LURE  OF  THE  ARIZONA  DESERTS  173 

pates,  waits,  and  gloats,  eagerly  drinking  in  the  radiant  glory 
of  the  Day  King's  triumphant  approach;  and  at  night> 
weary  and  tired,  perhaps,  after  a  day's  hard  labor,  or 
exhausting  journey,  looks  just  as  eagerly  and  delightedly 
upon  the  great  orb's  farewell  pyrotechnics  as  it  disappears 
behind  the  western  mountains. 

But  regardless  of  sunrise  or  sunset  the  desert  country  is 
a  rioting  wealth  of  color  —  the  varying  sands  and  clays  of 
the  valleys,  the  equally-mingled  grays,  reds,  blues,  greens, 
oranges,  and  lighter  yellows  of  the  mountains.  Played  upon 
by  the  heavenly  searchlights,  tinged  with  atmospheric  color- 
ings produced  by  the  very  fountains  of  nature's  electricity, 
they  dazzle  the  eyes  and  thrill  the  senses  as  only  those  who 
have  seen  the  gorgeous  color  displays  of  the  San  Francisco 
Exposition  can  begin  to  conceive.  And  yet  the  artificial 
displays  by  the  Golden  Gate  are  trivial  and  childlike  com- 
pared with  the  thousand-square-mile  areas  illumined  by 
God's  own  instruments  in  the  Arizona  deserts. 

Here  is  color  supreme.  Titian,  Tintoretto,  Reynolds, 
Velasquez,  and  all  the  masters,  ancient  and  modern,  would 
here  have  reveled  and  delighted  in,  and  been  intoxicated  by, 
the  vivid  brilliancy,  the  divine  abandonment  of  color-rich- 
ness so  lavishly  and  extravagantly  bestowed  upon  so  gigantic 
a  canvas.  And  the  phantasmagoria  is  never  quiescent,  never 
still,  never  twenty  seconds  the  same.  Every  moment  sees 
some  fresh  effect  beginning,  continuing,  or  produced.  All 
is  alive  —  intensely,  vividly,  potently,  yet  silently  and  mys- 
teriously alive.  Oh,  that  sense  of  desert  aliveness,  though 
silence,  solitude,  and  sublimity  reign  supreme.  The  expanses 
are  vast  and  almost  awful  in  their  immense  reaches.  The 
mountains  stand  as  though  they  had  been  placed  there  when 


174  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

God  laid  the  very  foundations  of  the  world,  and  in  His 
presence  they  had  been  hushed  into  a  silence  they  had  never 
since  dared  to  break.  The  sandy  area,  almost  treeless,  bush- 
less  and  flowerless,  lies  at  the  mountains'  feet,  feeling  the 
solemn  mystery  over  which  only  the  faintest  zephyrs  dare 
to  breathe.  And  yet  over  and  in  and  through  it  all  there 
is  a  sense  of  vivid,  active,  dominating,  radiant  power,  alive 
to  the  very  innerness  of  things,  that  captures  and  possesses 
the  soul.  What  it  is  you  cannot  tell,  and  analysis  gives 
neither  elucidation  nor  clue  to  the  mystery.  Yet  how  won- 
derful it  is  to  feel  it,  to  know  it,  to  live  in  it,  and  to  absorb 
its  marvelous  and  thrilling  potency ! 

Then  the  entrancing  and  soul-satisfying  calm  of  the 
desert!  Who  can  describe  it?  Watch  the  crowds  in  any 
American  city.  How  volatile,  restless,  mercurial,  unsatis- 
fied, agitated  they  are.  Ever  moving,  rising  up,  sitting 
down,  peeping  in,  pushing  on,  discontented  when  in  motion, 
unsatisfied  to  be  at  rest,  played  upon  by  every  whim  of 
fancy,  with  no  settled  purpose,  as  if  moved  by  the  fitful 
dreams  and  conjurations  of  fever  in  their  blood,  they  typify 
eternal  discontent,  dissatisfaction,  unrest.  Even  the  more 
thoughtful  and  mentally  alive  find  it  impossible  to  resist 
this  ever-present,  agitating  influence.  Ministers,  lawyers, 
doctors,  judges,  educators  are  almost  equally  in  a  state  of 
agitation  with  the  commoner  masses  of  the  people.  Calm, 
repose,  serenity  are  unknown.  Rush,  hurry,  bustle,  haste, 
activity,  to  the  point  of  nervous  exhaustion  are  exhibited 
everywhere.  Doctor  Blackgown's  pulpit  is  vacant  for  three 
months,  for  his  physician  has  sent  him  on  an  ocean  voyage 
to  quiet  his  nerves.  Judge  Bigwig  is  resting  for  two  months 
at  a  sanitarium,  and  Professor  Snozzlegozzle  is  recuperating 


Courtesy  of  V.  S.  Geological  Survey 

THE  DESERT  COUNTRY,  ARIZONA 


Courtesy  of  U.  S.  Geological  Survey 

THE  DESERT  COUNTRY,  ARIZONA 


LURE  OF  THE  ARIZONA  DESERTS  175 

in  the  mountains.  The  banker,  tradesman,  chemist,  feel 
the  same  jumping- jack  influence.  Business  is  conducted  on 
the  hop,  skip,  and  jump,  as  if  we  were  all  marionettes  sus- 
pended from  a  wire  and  worked  from  below  or  above  by  a 
jerky  string,  and  stability,  equipoise,  and  serenity  —  how  I 
revel  in  the  thought  behind  that  last  sublime  word  —  are 
almost  unknown. 

But  on  the  desert  how  different.  Have  you  ever  felt  a 
sweetening  influence  flow  into  your  inmost  soul  from  the 
presence  of  a  good  man  or  woman  when  you  were  angry  to 
fierceness,  mad  enough  to  strike?  Have  you  ever  seen  a 
fretful  child,  querulously  wailing  or  spasmodically  sobbing 
out  of  sheer  physical  irritability  or  exhaustion,  placed  on 
the  shoulder  of  a  loving,  calm  father,  or  the  deep-lunged 
bosom  of  a  restful,  unperturbed  mother,  and  watched  the 
transforming  miracle  that  bade  the  irritation  disappear,  the 
wailing  cease,  and  sent  the  child  into  delicious,  satisfying 
slumber  ? 

That  is  what  the  desert  does  for  its  devotees.  Its  fierce 
day  heat  seems  to  purge  the  blood  of  its  mercurial  fever;  to 
put  the  calming  hand  upon  the  heated  brow,  the  restraining 
and  soothing  influence  around  the  whole  physical  nature  — 
heart,  brain,  nerves,  blood  vessels,  skin,  everything  feels 
the  sedative  power.  And,  as  if  by  magic,  mind  and  soul 
also  feel  the  inflowing  of  serenity,  content,  restfulness  —  the 
peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding.  It  is  as 
if  the  finite  man  here  came  into  personal,  intimate  touch 
with  the  reservoirs  of  infinity,  the  stores  of  the  Divine,  the 
spiritual  treasure-houses  of  the  ages,  the  recuperating,  reju- 
venating springs  of  everlasting  youth.  Well  might  the 
Arabs  call  the  desert  the  Garden  of  Allah.  They  have 


176  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

learned  its  secret.  It  is  the  land  where  "  everlasting  spring 
abides,  and  never  withering  flowers,"  but  they  do  not  believe 
that 

Death,  like  a  narrow  stream,  divides 

This  blessed  land  from  ours. 

They  enter  into,  take  possession  of,  are  taken  possession 
of,  by  the  serene  influences  that  occupy  the  land  and  thus 
feel  themselves  in  the  chosen  place  of  God. 

Then,  too,  there  is  something  enlarging,  ennobling, 
expanding  to  the  mind  and  soul  in  the  vastnesses  of  the 
desert.  The  Delectable  Mountains  yonder  are  fifty,  seventy- 
five,  a  hundred  miles  away,  and  at  one  sweep  the  eye  covers 
all  the  intervening  space  between;  yonder  peaks  are  nine, 
ten,  eleven  thousand  feet  high  in  the  crystal  blue  of  the 
Arizona  sky;  yonder  "devil's  whirligig,"  a  sand-spiral  on 
the  desert,  is  twenty-five  miles  away,  and  the  little  cloud  of 
dust  tells  of  a  moving  prairie-schooner  fifteen  miles  off. 
Distance  is  annihilated,  miles  forgotten,  in  the  pellucid 
atmosphere  of  this  laboratory  of  pure  air.  Hence  there 
comes  a  corresponding  enlargement  of  mind  and  soul;  one 
no  longer  feels  any  of  the  "cabin'd,  cribb'd,  confin'd" 
influences  of  the  cities. 

As  one  can  move  with  a  new  sense  of  freedom,  breathe 
in  a  larger  fullness  of  air,  rejoice  in  a  greater  expansion 
of  lungs,  a  quickening  of  the  oxygenating  influences  in  the 
blood,  and  a  stimulation  of  the  brain  cells,  with  a  corre- 
sponding soothing  of  the  nerves  and  increase  of  vigor  in 
the  muscles,  so  does  he  feel  the  enlargement  of  the  lungs 
of  the  mind,  the  quickening  influences  upon  the  intellect,  the 
stimulation  of  the  soul,  the  expansion  of  the  conceptions, 
the  imagination,  the  powers  that  make  the  man  superior  to 


LURE  OF  THE  ARIZONA  DESERTS  177 

the  brute;   that  bring  out  the  qualities  of  the  Divine  over 
and  above  the  human. 

It  must  be  in  the  silence  and  solitude  of  the  desert  there 
are  few  things  to  distract  the  attention.  One  can  focalize 
as  nowhere  else.  As  Joaquin  Miller  once  expressed  it:  he 
went  to  live  on  the  quiet  mountain  heights  above  the  city  of 
Oakland,  away  from  the  disturbing  influences  of  men,  the 
distraction,  cares,  pleasures,  social  allurements  of  men,  in 
order  that,  in  the  silence  and  solitude,  he  might  listen  to  the 
voice  of  God.  In  the  city,  the  theater,  the  opera,  the  con- 
cert, the  show,  the  vaudeville,  the  dansant,  the  revelry,  the 
wine  cup,  the  feast,  "woman,  wine,  and  song,"  allure,  dis- 
tract, dissipate,  destroy.  But  in  the  desert  the  voice  of  God 
is  supreme,  and  the  human  seems  to  be  attuned  to  listen- 
ing—  a  rapt,  attent  Saint  Cecilia-like  attitude  —  of  readi- 
ness, willingness,  gladness  to  hear  the  Voice  Divine. 

The  first  thought,  however,  that  takes  full  possession  of 
man  when  he  sees  the  desert  in  all  its  mysterious  vastness 
for  the  first  time  is  that  life  within  its  boundaries  is  dif- 
ficult, if  not  impossible.  He  cannot  see  any  other  animal 
life  than  the  lizard,  horned  toad,  snake,  and  ant.  He  notes 
the  scarcity  of  plant  life,  the  dearth  of  trees,  the  rarity 
of  flowers. 

And  whatever  plant  life  there  is,  is  armoured  and  pro- 
tected with  fierce  thorns  and  prickles,  so  that  none  can  touch 
it  with  impunity,  without  hurt  or  injury.  The  fight  for 
mere  existence  is  strongly  in  evidence.  Heat  and  drought 
say  die;  wild  animals  would  make  food  of  it  and  thus 
destroy  it.  But  Nature  seems  to  love  sturdy  resistance  in 
the  preservation  of  life.  She  endows  these  desert  plants 
with  heat-resisting  cuticles,  with  moisture-seeking  and 


178  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

moisture-gathering  roots,  that  travel  and  grow  long  dis- 
tances; she  clothes  them  with  spines  and  thorns  that  cut 
and  wound  as  the  claws  of  the  wildcat  and  tiger.  Hence 
they  live,  grow  and  multiply,  each  after  its  kind,  drinking 
in  every  drop  of  moisture  that  falls  during  the  year;  mar- 
velous examples  of  conservation  of  energy,  and  perfect 
utilization  of  every  source  of  supply. 

Thus  Nature  becomes  man's  teacher.  She  offers  a  chal- 
lenge to  the  superior  being.  Can  the  lizard  and  horned  toad, 
the  greasewood  and  mesquite,  the  cactus  and  the  yucca 
live  where  man  can  not?  Are  there  any  conditions  of 
life  —  where  anything  can  live  —  superior  to  man?  If  so, 
wherein  lies  man's  dominion,  his  control,  his  vaunted 
superiority  ? 

These  wild  denizens  of  the  desert  areas  are  not  only  a 
challenge,  but  also  a  means  of  instruction.  They  suggest  in 
themselves  the  law  of  adaptation.  Little  by  little  our  scien- 
tists are  beginning  to  grasp  the  marvelous  significance  of 
this  fact  —  that  Nature  adapts  herself  to  circumstances 
and  environment.  The  first  cactuses  that  grew  on  the  desert 
doubtless  perished  by  thousands,  but  a  few  persisted.  They 
had  a  tougher  strain  than  their  companions,  and  they 
resisted  heat,  drought,  winter's  frost,  and  the  attacks  of 
animals  alike.  They  became  wise,  subtle,  crafty  in  their 
self-preservation. 

This  is  no  place  to  enter  into  a  scientific  explanation  of 
the  wonderful  resources  and  adaptations  of  the  various  cac- 
tuses to  the  trying  life  of  the  desert.  I  merely  wish  to 
suggest  the  apparently  unsurmountable  difficulties  the  plants 
actually  overcome.  Their  brave  struggles  and  successful 
achievements  invest  them  with  a  rare  and  pathetic  attrac- 


LURE  OF  THE  ARIZONA  DESERTS  179 

tion.  One  feels  they  are  akin  to  man  in  their  determined 
resistance  to  powers  that  combine  to  crush  them  out  of 
existence. 

Rains  come  but  seldom.  A  year's  rainfall  will  vary  from 
one  or  two  inches  to  a  maximum,  rarely  reached,  of  twenty 
inches.  Heavy  rains  occur  so  seldom  that  they  have  an 
almost  negligible  effect  upon  the  soil  moisture,  as  it  is  evi- 
dent that  only  such  rains  can  supply  water  enough  to 
penetrate  to  any  depth  and  afford  any  appreciable  and 
reliable  source  of  supply.  The  frequency  of  light  rains  is 
great,  and  these  generally  make  up  the  larger  part  of  the 
sum  total  of  the  year's  rainfall.  These  may  be  compared 
to  tantalizing  tastes,  exciting  and  stimulating  the  appetite 
to  the  extreme,  suddenly  withdrawn  without  the  slightest 
real  satisfaction  of  the  longings  they  have  aroused. 

Who  does  not  know,  in  himself,  the  arousement  of  such 
expectations  and  their  absorbing  and  anticipatory  power, 
and,  also,  alas!  the  utter  desolation  of  soul,  depression  of 
spirit,  and  weariness  of  body  that  come  with  disappoint- 
ment? If  plants  are  in  any  way  akin  to  man  —  and  who 
would  question  that  life  makes  all  living  things  akin  —  what 
must  be  the  continual  experience  of  these  desert  species  in 
their  alternate  hopes  and  despairs,  their  arousements  of 
expectations  that  are  seldom  lifted  to  gratification  and  sat- 
isfaction? 

When  these  tantalizing  rainfalls  are  considered  in  con- 
nection with  the  burning  temperatures  of  the  desert  in  the 
day  time,  alternated  with  the  rapid  night  radiations,  which 
pull  the  thermometer  down  with  startling  speed,  the  mere 
struggle  for  existence  grows  more  and  more  wonderful,  and 
success,  when  achieved,  more  remarkable. 


180  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

The  aids  to  these  successes  of  life  persistence  are  won- 
derful in  the  extreme,  and  have  been  suggested  by  the 
studies  of  such  students  as  Merriam,  Coville,  Thornber, 
McDougall,  Spalding,  and  others  of  the  Desert  Botanical 
Laboratory  at  Tucson,  Arizona.  They  deal  with  the  influ- 
ences of  altitude,  the  ability  to  store  water,  the  breathing 
power  of  the  plants,  the  habits  of  roots,  the  development 
of  resistant  powers  against  the  salt  and  other  adverse  chem- 
ical elements  in  the  soil,  etc. 

Seeing  the  plants  thus  successful  in  maintaining  life  in 
the  desert,  man,  boldly  and  fearlessly,  has  accepted  its  chal- 
lenge and  begun  to  subjugate  it.  He  has  swept  over  the 
deserts  of  Arabia  in  search  of  trade,  and  his  caravans  have 
defied  heat  and  drought,  sandstorm,  and  sirocco  and  have 
shuttled  back  and  forth  according  to  his  will.  Here  and 
there  man  has  found  springs  on  the  desert,  and  inch  by 
inch  has  wrested  away  from  the  Heat  and  Drought  Demon 
his  cofttrol,  making  date  palms,  cocoa  palms,  and  tropical 
flowers  grow  in  riotous  profusion. 

In  other  places  he  has  engineered  vast  canals  of  water 
upon  the  arid  acres,  miles,  leagues,  and  has  transformed 
the  barren  sands  into  fertile  fields  that  are  the  wonder  and 
amazement  of  the  world.  With  the  blind  eyes  of  his  boring 
tools  he  has  penetrated  a  thousand,  two  thousand  and  more 
feet  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  has  found  artesian  foun- 
tains there  which  have  shot  up  their  refreshing  and  vivify- 
ing waters  by  the  millions  of  gallons,  hourly,  to  aid  man 
in  his  miraculous  work  of  destroying  —  reclaiming  —  the 
desert. 

And  when  man  so  triumphs,  just  so  soon  as  he  holds  the 
upper  hand,  Nature  bows  down  in  reverent  obedience.  The 


181 

very  heat  is  made  tributary  to  man's  power  and  subservient 
to  his  wishes.  The  greater  the  heat,  the  more  wonderful 
the  growths  and  the  sweeter  the  crops.  The  grape,  the 
pomelo,  the  canteloupe,  the  water-melon,  the  date,  the  beet, 
are  each  and  all  the  sweeter,  the  richer,  the  more  delicious 
for  the  fervid  heat  that  is  now  man's  servant  instead  of 
his  master.  There  are  no  grapes  like  desert  grapes;  no 
pomelo  so  sweet  and  free  from  bitterness  as  the  desert 
pomelo ;  no  melon  so  rich  and  luscious  as  the  desert  melon ; 
no  date  so  abounding  in  exquisitely  flavored  sugar  as  the 
desert  date. 

Nor  does  man  long  stand  in  awe  of  the  heat  as  far  as 
his  own  comfort  and  pleasure  are  concerned.  He  builds 
cunningly  contrived  houses  that,  with  double  roofs,  porches, 
patios  and  arched  colonnades,  shut  out  the  sun's  rays.  He 
cools  the  air  with  electric  fans  and  bubbling  fountains;  he 
keeps  his  food  in  ice  chests  and  concocts  refreshing  drinks 
of  ambrosial  quality.  Then  with  his  electric  lights  he  turns 
night  into  day,  according  to  his  will,  and  works  in  the 
absence  of  the  sun,  and  sleeps  in  cool  content  when  day 
dawns.  Oh,  a  daring,  a  defiant,  genius  is  this  pigmy  man 
when  once  his  interest,  his  will,  his  spirit,  are  aroused ! 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
THE  COLOSSAL  NATURAL  BRIDGES   OF  UTAH 

FOR  a  century  or  so  the  Natural  Bridge  of  Virginia  has 
been  regarded  as  the  most  remarkable  piece  of  Nature's 
engineering  of  this  character  within  the  boundaries  of  the 
United  States.  Yet  here,  as  in  some  other  departments, 
further  knowledge  of  our  vast  domain  has  compelled  a 
revision  of  our  earlier  conceptions.  There  are  several  nat- 
ural bridges  in  the  west  that  far  surpass  in  grandeur  and 
wonder  their  more  famous  eastern  counterpart,  and  yet  it 
is  only  as  recently  as  1904  that  the  outside  world  knew 
anything  of  the  remarkable  bridges  of  southern  Utah.  Then, 
in  the  August  Century  Magazine,  an  article  appeared  which 
did  much  to  awaken  interest  in  these  wonderful  arches  of 
Nature. 

It  was  not,  however,  until  1905  that  anything  was  done 
in  a  systematic  way  to  render  them  famous  by  accurate 
exploitation.  In  that  year  my  good  artistic  friend,  Harry 
L.  A.  Culmer,  of  Salt  Lake  City,  was  sent  out  by  the  Salt 
Lake  Commercial  Club  for  the  purpose  of  securing  photo- 
graphs, sketches,  and  paintings  which  accurately  would  rep- 
resent them.  This  expedition  was  supplemented  in  1907 
by  one  under  the  auspices  of  the  University  of  Utah,  from 
whose  report  by  Professor  Byron  Cummings  some  of  the 
following  quotations  and  accurate  measurements  are  taken. 

These  bridges  were  first  seen  by  white  men  in  1883,  yet 

182 


COLOSSAL  NATURAL  BRIDGES  OF  UTAH    183 

they  have  been  here  for  centuries.  The  whole  region  is 
one  in  which  I  have  ridden  for  days,  thrilled  and  delighted 
with  the  marvelous  sculpturings  that  Nature  has  here 
indulged  in.  The  two  most  southeasterly  counties  of  Utah 
are  a  vast  principality  in  themselves,  covering  1 1,784  square 
miles,  or  one-seventh  of  the  entire  state.  The  population 
is  so  small  as  to  be  less  than  many  a  country  town  in  the 
East  or  Middle  West.  The  greater  part  of  the  surface  of 
these  counties  is  a  high  plateau,  5,000  to  6,000  feet  above 
sea-level,  formed  of  rich  red  sandstone.  From  this  plateau 
rise  remnants  of  still  another  and  higher  plateau  or  mesa 
that  in  places  cover  large  areas,  but  for  the  most  part  stand 
out  as  isolated  cliffs. 

To  quote  Professor  Cummings : 

All  the  softer  portions  have  been  washed  down  and  used  to 
help  form  the  plains  below,  while  the  harder  parts  still  remain, 
worn  into  mighty  monuments,  castles,  domes,  and  spires  that 
lift  their  heads  far  above  the  lower  mesa  upon  which  they 
stand.  ...  In  comparison  with  this  handiwork  of  time,  the 
celebrated  "Garden  of  the  Gods"  (in  Colorado)  pales  into 
mediocrity.* 

So  is  it  with  the  Natural  Bridge  of  Virginia  when  com- 
pared with  the  colossal  spans  of  this  Utah  wonderland.  In 
1903,  a  good  friend  of  mine,  Horace  J.  Long,  then  a  mining 
engineer,  now  a  successful  merchant  of  Mason,  Nevada, 
was  engaged  in  prospecting  and  placer-mining  on  the  bars 
in  the  canyons  of  the  Colorado  River.  The  nearest  post- 
office  was  at  Kite,  Utah,  fifty  miles  away.  In  one  of  his 
wearisome  rides  for  mail  Mr.  Long  fell  in  with  a  cattleman, 
named  Scorup,  who,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  told  him 

*  The  Great  Natural  Bridges  of  Utah,  by  Prof.  Byron  Cummings. 
Bulletin  of  University  of  Utah,  Nov.,  1910, 


184  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

of  certain  great  "  arches  "  which  he  had  seen  near  the  head 
of  White  Canyon.  It  took  Mr.  Long  some  time  to  get  it 
into  his  head  that  by  "arches"  Scorup  meant  bridges,  but 
when  he  did  he  decided  to  visit  them.  It  was  a  long  trip 
from  Dandy  Crossing,  on  the  Colorado,  occupying  a  large 
part  of  three  days,  and  as  they  approached 

Scorup  himself  showed  signs  of  nervousness,  as  if  appre- 
hensive that  his  memory  had  magnified  the  size  and  grandeur 
of  what  he  had  seen  eight  years  before,  and  had  thus  prepared 
a  disappointment  for  them  both.  The  canyon  varied  from 
perhaps  three  hundred  to  five  hundred  feet  in  width,  and  had 
many  curves  and  abrupt  changes  of  direction.  The  walls  rose 
to  a  perpendicular  height  of  about  four  hundred  feet,  and  in 
many  places  far  overhung  their  bases.  The  bottom  was  very 
rough  and  uneven,  and  at  that  season  a  considerable  stream  of 
water  was  flowing  in  a  narrow  channel,  cut  in  most  places  to  a 
considerable  depth  below  the  average  level. 

Pushing  their  horses  as  rapidly  as  possible  up  the  canyon, 
and  eagerly  making  their  way  around  the  masses  of  debris, 
which  in  many  places  had  fallen  from  the  cliffs  above,  the 
travelers  proceeded  about  a  mile  when  they  rounded  a  short 
curve  in  the  canyon  wall  and  had  their  first  view  of  one  of 
Scorup's  arches.  Extravagant  indeed  must  have  been  their 
expectations  to  experience  any  disappointment  at  sight  of  the 
colossal  natural  bridge  before  them.  Yet,  from  the  scenic 
point  of  view,  this  bridge  was  the  least  satisfactory  of  the 
three  which  they  visited.  Its  walls  and  buttresses  are  com- 
posed of  pinkish  sandstone,  streaked  here  and  there  with  green 
and  orange-colored  moss  or  lichens.  But  its  outlines  are  quite 
irregular ;  the  projecting  walls  of  the  canyon  interrupt  the 
view,  and  the  tremendous  mass  of  stone  above  the  arch  tends 
to  dwarf  the  height  and  width  of  the  span.* 

This  was  the  bridge  they  named  Caroline,  or  Carolyn,  in 
honor  of  Scorup's  wife,  but  the  government  officials  have 
given  it  the  Hopi  name  of  "Kachina."  It  has  a  span  of 

*  The  Century  Magazine,  August,  1904. 


Courtesy  of  U.  S.  Geological  Survey 

NONNEZOSHIE  NATURAL  BRIDGE,  UTAH 


Courtesy  of  U.  S.  Geological  Survey 

EDWIN  NATURAL  BRIDGE,  UTAH 


Courtesy  of  U.  S.  Geological  Surrey 

AUGUSTA  NATURAL  BRIDGE,  UTAH 


COLOSSAL  NATURAL  BRIDGES  OF  UTAH    185 

156  feet  from  side  to  side,  and  ninety-eight  feet  in  the 
center,  while  the  total  height  of  the  bridge  is  205  feet,  with 
a  width  on  top  of  forty-nine  feet. 

Sharp  corners  and  broken  lines  here  and  there  in  the  arch 
and  buttresses  show  the  unfinished  work  of  the  artisan. 
Nature  has  not  yet  given  the  final  touches ;  but  wind  and  storm 
and  driving  sand  will  continue  to  chisel  and  polish  until  the 
lines  are  all  graceful  curves,  adding  greater  beauty  to  the  most 
massive  of  the  bridges.  Beneath  its  broad  arch,  a  spring  of 
cold  water  invites  one  to  "  bide  a  wee  and  dinna  fret."* 

Two  miles  further  up  the  main  fork  of  the  canyon  is 
the  Augusta,  or  Shipapu,  Bridge.  The  first  is  the  name 
given  by  Long,  in  honor  of  his  wife,  while  the  latter  is  the 
official  designation. 

This  span  is  157  feet  high  and  261  feet  long  at  the  bottom. 
It  is  222  feet  from  the  creek  bed  to  the  top  of  the  bridge,  and 
the  road  bed  is  twenty-eight  feet  wide.  It  is  the  crowning 
glory  of  the  three  bridges.  It  combines  massiveness  with 
gracefulness  of  proportions  that  give  an  altogether  pleasing  and 
satisfying  effect.  *  *  *  One  climbs  to  the  cliff  above  and 
watches  the  play  of  sunshine  and  shadow  upon  the  warm  col- 
oring of  the  rich  reds  and  browns  of  the  enduring  sandstone 
that  forms  its  arch  and  buttresses  and  comprehends  the  grace- 
fulness of  its  outlines  and  proportions  as  a  whole,  and  he  seems 
unable  to  tear  himself  away  from  the  spell  its  might  and  beauty 
throw  around  him.  f 

Some  six  miles  from  the  Kachina  Bridge,  up  in  Arm- 
strong Canyon,  about  three  miles  above  where  it  opens 
out  into  White  Canyon,  is  what  Long  called  "The  Little 
Bridge,"  now  officially  entitled  "  Owachomo." 

It  is  a  graceful  structure,  having  a  span  of  194  feet  and  an 
elevation  of  108  feet.  This  long  arch  of  sandstone  is  only  ten 

*  The  Great  Natural  Bridges  of  Utah,  Bulletin  of  the  University  of 
Utah,  Nov.,  1910.  t 


186  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

feet  thick  in  the  center;  and  thus  one  sees  how  these  propor- 
tions give  an  impression  of  lightness  that  is  most  pleasing  to 
the  eye.  Near  it  are  domes  and  turrets  fashioned  by  the  same 
powers  that  produced  the  bridge ;  and  nestling  in  a  cave  worn 
in  the  sunny  side  of  the  cliff  near  one  end  are  the  deserted 
homes  of  a  Cliff-Dweller's  village.* 

These  were  the  three  bridges  disclosed  by  the  Long  expe- 
dition, but  still  another,  grander  and  more  majestic  still,  was 
discovered  by  the  Utah  Archaeological  Expedition  of 
August,  1909.  This  is  known  as  the  Nonnezoshie  and  is 
located  northwest  of  Navaho  Mountain,  in  the  extreme 
southern  part  of  Utah,  near  the  Colorado  River. 

President  Taft,  by  proclamation  May  13,  1910,  set  aside  this 
arch  with  the  land  about  it  as  "  Rainbow  Bridge  National 
Monument."  In  appearance  it  is  not  so  much  a  real  bridge  as 
the  structures  in  White  Canyon,  because  the  top  of  the  span 
is  not  level.  It  is  a  graceful  arch  of  magnificent  proportions, 
308  feet  high  and  274  feet  long,  that  has  been  chiseled  out  of 
the  cliff  under  conditions  similar  to  those  that  have  produced 
the  White  Canyon  bridges.  Here,  however,  the  sandstone  has 
been  more  yielding  and  the  forces  at  work,  perhaps,  more  con- 
stant, so  that  erosion  has  progressed  much  farther  and  left 
only  a  curving  arm  of  the  harder  rock  that  still  stretches  grace- 
fully out  across  the  canyon. 

This  canyon,  called  by  the  Indians  Nonnezoshieboko  —  Great 
Arch  Canyon  —  is  a  gorge  that  takes  its  winding  course  from 
the  slope  of  Navaho  Mountain  northwest  into  the  Colorado 
River.  Nonnezoshie  spans  this  deep  gulf  from  the  cliff  on  one 
side  to  a  bench  on  the  other  about  six  miles  above  the  mouth 
of  the  canyon.  In  places  below  the  arch,  the  cliffs  that  tower 
far  above  and  form  practically  perpendicular  walls  on  either 
side,  draw  so  close  together  that  there  is  barely  room  to  pass 
through  by  wading  the  small  stream  in  the  narrow  channel. 

During  the  high  waters  in  the  spring  or  after  a  heavy  shower 

*  The  Great  Natural  Bridges  of  Utah,  Bulletin  of  the  University  of 
Vtah, 


INDIAN  PICTURE  WRITING 

NAVAHO   RESERVATION 


INDIAN  PICTURE  WRITING 

SOUTHERN  UTAH 


ROCK  FORMATIONS,  SOUTHERN  UTAH 


ROCK  FORMATIONS,  NAVAHO  RESERVATION 


COLOSSAL  NATURAL  BRIDGES  OF  UTAH    187 

at  any  time  of  year  it  would  be  impossible  to  traverse  this 
gorge.  Good  water  is  quite  abundant  in  the  immediate  vicin- 
ity ;  but  grass  is  scarce  and  the  region  so  rough  that  it  has  been 
little  frequented  even  by  Indians.  The  setting  of  wild  scenery 
and  interesting  physiographic  features,  however,  make  it  one 
of  the  most  attractive  spots  on  the  globe.  On  the  northern 
slope  of  Navaho  Mountain  are  two  other  smaller  arches,  each 
of  which  would  be  attractive  in  itself,  were  it  not  overshadowed 
by  the  great  arch  of  Nonnezoshie.  * 

Professor  Cummings  thus  explains  the  origin  of  these 
bridges : 

Ages  ago  the  great  sandstone  beds  overlying  this  entire 
region  must  have  been  pushed  upwards  by  the  internal  forces 
of  the  earth  until  in  the  places  of  their  greatest  elevation  the 
various  strata  separated,  mountains  were  formed,  and  large 
cracks  opened  up  that  extended  in  zigzag  lines  away  through 
the  slopes  of  this  vast  tableland.  This  process  of  elevation 
was  undoubtedly  a  gradual  one;  and,  as  the  waters  of  the 
mountains  sought  a  lower  level,  they  took  their  courses  through 
those  irregular  crevices,  searching  for  the  ocean  which  was  then 
not  far  away.  Their  rushing  currents  and  surging  eddies  wore 
off  the  sharp  corners,  sought  out  the  soft  places  in  the  yielding 
sandstone,  dug  out  deep  caverns  and  recesses  in  the  cliffs,  and 
left  behind  them  a  series  of  graceful  curves  and  fantastic 
forms  that  amaze  and  delight  the  traveler  at  every  turn.  As 
the  formation  was  pushed  upward  from  time  to  time,  these 
rushing  currents  and  surging  estuaries  kept  on  with  their  work 
of  cutting,  smoothing,  and  rilling  until  they  produced  the  deep 
box  canyons  so  prevalent  in  this  section,  which  sometimes 
widen  out  into  small  valleys  of  rich  alluvial  deposit,  and  again 
narrow  down  to  mere  slits  between  huge  masses  of  cliffs. 

This  elevation  and  opening  of  the  formation  often  left  a 
narrow  section  of  the  cliff  extending  out  into  the  gorge  for 
rods,  around  which  the  stream  had  to  make  its  way  as  it  rushed 
onward  in  its  course.  The  constant  surging  of  the  waters 

*  The  Great  Natural  Bridges  of  Utah,  Bulletin  of  the  University  of 
Utah. 


188  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

against  this  barrier  revealed  a  soft  place  in  the  sandstone,  where 
it  gradually  ate  out  a  half  dome-shaped  cave.  In  a  few  in- 
stances as  the  water  swirled  around  the  other  side  of  this  bar- 
rier, they  reached  the  corresponding  soft  place  on  the  opposite 
side  and  ground  out  a  similar  half  dome  there.  When,  in  the 
course  of  time,  the  backs  of  these  two  semi-circular  caves  came 
together,  the  waters  found  a  shorter  course  through  that  open- 
ing, enlarged  the  archway  and  smoothed  off  and  rounded  into 
graceful  curves  the  sides  of  its  massive  buttresses.  Thus  a 
bridge  was  formed  and  became  a  mighty  span  of  enduring 
rock,  whose  foundations  and  graceful  superstructure  were  laid 
by  the  ages.* 

Still  another  wonderful  bridge  has  been  found  in  this 
remarkable  land  of  enchantment,  and  Professor  Cummings 
thus  tells  of  its  discovery  and  appearance : 

In  November,  1909,  under  the  guidance  of  Dr.  John  Will- 
iams of  Moab,  we  visited  a  natural  bridge  on  the  edge  of  Grand 
County  that  deserves  to  be  classed  with  those  of  San  Juan 
County  among  the  great  natural  wonders  of  our  continent. 
This  is  a  graceful  arch  with  a  total  elevation  of  sixty-two  feet 
and  a  span  of  122  feet  long  and  forty-nine  feet  high.  It  stands 
beside  the  cliff  on  the  western  edge  of  Pritchett  Valley;  and 
has  been  fashioned  under  somewhat  different  conditions  from 
those  prevailing  during  the  construction  of  the  natural  bridges 
already  described.  Here  there  has  been  no  narrow  zigzag  can- 
yon through  which  the  waters  surged  in  former  times,  but 
quite  a  large  valley,  some  three  miles  long  and  from  one- fourth 
to  one-half  a  mile  wide.  On  the  sides  of  this  irregular  basin 
rise  rugged  cliffs  that  jut  into  the  valley  here  and  there  in  sharp 
points  and  rounded  domes.  The  upper  surfaces  of  these  cliffs 
stretch  back  in  bare  undulating  fields  of  sandstone,  much 
eroded  by  wind  and  water.  Caves  have  been  hollowed  out  of 
these  cliffs  and  various  and  numerous  natural  reservoirs  are 
found  scattered  on  the  surface  of  these  bare  rocks  where  soft 
places  have  been  found  in  the  stone,  or  whirling  eddies  in 

*  The  Great  Natural  Bridges  of  Utah,  Bulletin  of  the  University  of 
Utah. 


former  ages  have  ground  out  cisterns.  Some  of  these  are  mere 
shallow  tanks,  while  others  reach  down  twenty  feet  and  more 
through  the  solid  sandstone.  Some  are  irregular  and  winding 
in  their  course,  while  others  look  as  though  they  had  been  sunk 
by  some  Titanic  drill  when  the  gods  were  playing  with  the 
earth's  crust.  A  few  drain  considerable  areas  of  the  cliff,  and 
in  time  of  storm  many  a  rushing  torrent  loses  itself  in  their 
depths.  In  a  few  instances  such  a  reservoir  has  been  formed 
directly  behind  a  cave  that  was  being  hollowed  out  of  the  side 
of  the  cliff.  As  the  walls  of  the  cave  gradually  extended  back- 
ward farther  and  farther  into  the  cliff,  the  reservoir  was  sunk 
deeper  and  enlarged  little  by  little  until  its  bottom  broke 
through  into  the  back  of  the  cave.  Then  the  waters  formerly 
gathered  into  the  reservoir  and  held,  surged  through  the  cave 
and  lost  themselves  in  the  valley  below.  Every  downpour  of 
rain  and  every  driving  wind  carried  the  work  a  little  farther 
until  the  former  roof  of  the  cave  became  an  arch.  When  the 
reservoir  held  the  waters  until  its  depth  about  equalled  that 
of  the  cave,  then  the  gracefully  curving  arch  of  the  cave  be- 
came a  real  bridge  as  in  the  case  of  the  fine  arch  already  men- 
tioned, which  we  have  christened  Pikyabo  (Pee-kya-bo),  the 
Ute  name  for  Water  Tank.* 

One  may  visit  these  bridges  from  Bluff  or  Oljato,  or  may 
correspond  with  Wetherill  and  Colville,  at  Kayenta,  Arizona, 
as  suggested  in  the  chapter  on  Betatakin  and  Kitsiel.  To 
those  who  enjoy  horseback  riding  and  camping  out  the  trip 
will  be  a  revelation  of  delight,  and  far  more  than  compen- 
sate for  all  the  hardships  the  journey  may  entail. 

*  The  Great  Natural  Bridges  of  Utah,  Bulletin  of  the  University  of 
Utah. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   GARDEN    OF   THE   GODS    AND    MONUMENT 

PARK 

LIKE  the  Virginia  Natural  Bridge,  the  Colorado  Garden 
of  the  Gods  has  been  so  overshadowed  by  the  later 
discoveries  in  the  Land  of  the  Standing  Rocks  in  Arizona 
that  it  would  scarce  be  deemed  worthy  a  place  in  this  volume 
were  it  not  for  its  time-honored  associations,  and  the  fact 
that  it  will  ever  remain  to  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people 
the  most  remarkable  area  of  erosion  they  have  been  able  to 
witness.  As  Clifton  Johnson  says  in  his  American  High- 
ways and  Byways  of  the  Rocky  Mountains: 

Among  the  scenic  attractions  of  the  neighborhood,  the  most 
widely  known,  aside  from  Pike's  Peak,  is  "  The  Garden  of  the 
Gods."  This  overspreads  two  or  three  miles  of  rough  hills, 
and  the  growths  for  which  the  gods  are  responsible  and  which 
lend  the  Garden  distinction,  consist  of  a  great  variety  of  fan- 
tastic pillars  and  ridges  of  rock,  mostly  of  red  sandstone,  but 
with  an  occasional  gray  upthrust  of  gypsum.  Several  of  the 
pinnacled  and  grottoed  ridges  are  of  very  impressive  size,  the 
highest  over  300  feet;  and  in  the  lofty  crannies  numerous 
doves  and  swift- winged  swallows  have  their  nests.  Down 
below,  the  prairie  larks  sing,  and  the  robins  hop  about  the 
ground,  and  you  see  an  occasional  magpie.  But  to  me  the 
greatest  pleasure  I  enjoyed  in  the  Garden  was  the  view  I  had 
thence  of  the  brotherhood  of  giant  mountains  clustering  about 
the  hoary  Pike's  Peak. 

The  Garden  of  the  Gods  is  seventy-five  miles  from  Den- 
ver, but  only  five  from  Colorado  Springs.    A  fine  automobile 

190 


Courtesy  of  U.  S.  Geological  Survey 

CATHEDRAL  SPIRES 

GARDEN    OF   THE   GODS 


GARDEN  OF  THE  GODS  191 

road  connects  these  two  cities,  and  there  is  also  a  good  road 
from  Colorado  Springs  on  to  the  Garden  of  the  Gods.  Four 
miles  out  Glen  Eyrie  is  reached,  where,  though  it  is  a  private 
estate,  visitors  are  allowed  to  enter  and  see  the  sandstone 
monuments  —  some  of  which  are  generally  supposed  to  be 
found  within  the  Garden  of  the  Gods.  The  two  chief 
objects  of  interest  are  the  Major  Domo  and  Cathedral 
Rock.  The  former,  a  fantastically-carved  piece  of  almost 
blood-red  sandstone,  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  high, 
with  a  rude  knob  or  head,  has  a  commanding  or  half  fero- 
cious presence,  which  is  the  cause  of  its  title.  It  is  only 
about  ten  feet  in  diameter  at  its  base. 

A  mile  further  on  the  splendid  Gateway  to  the  Garden  is 
reached.  The  pillars  that  compose  it  are  330  feet  high  and 
just  wide  enough  apart  to  allow  space  for  the  carriage  way; 
in  the  center  of  this  is  a  red  pillar  twenty-five  feet  high, 
naturally  dividing  the  roadway  into  an  entrance  and  exit. 
Towering  above  us  as  we  enter  the  Garden,  the  majestic 
and  snow-crowned  summit  of  Pike's  Peak,  over  14,000  feet 
high,  fills  the  horizon,  and  is  beautifully  framed  in  a  rich 
setting  of  red  sandstone. 

The  Garden  of  the  Gods  is  a  tract  of  about  500  acres, 
thickly  strewn  with  these  fantastic  and  majestic  natural 
monuments  in  red  and  white  sandstone.  The  coloring  of 
the  rocks  adds  not  a  little  to  the  effect,  and  to  be  properly 
seen  the  Garden  should  be  visited  in  the  morning  or  evening, 
when  the  shadows  are  long,  and  so  add  variety  to  their 
charm.  Immediately  after  a  rain  the  hues  are  deeper,  and 
the  red  becomes  so  vivid  that  the  truthful  representations 
of  the  artist  are  taken  for  rude  exaggerations. 

Immediately  the  traveler  finds  himself  within  the  gate 


192  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

he  is  in  an  enchanted  region,  where  objects  unreal,  super- 
natural, mighty  and  strange  overwhelm  the  senses. 

The  road  winds  between  every  conceivable  and  inconceivable 
shape  and  size  of  rock,  from  pebbles  up  to  gigantic  boulders, 
from  queer  little  grotesques,  looking  like  seals,  cats,  or  masks, 
to  colossal  forms,  looking  like  elephants,  like  huge  gargoyles, 
like  giants,  like  sphinxes,  some  eighty  feet  high,  all  motionless 
and  silent,  with  a  strange  look  of  having  been  just  stopped  and 
held  back  in  the  very  climax  of  some  supernatural  catastrophe. 
The  stillness,  the  absence  of  living  things,  the  preponderance 
of  bizarre  shapes,  the  expression  of  arrested  action,  give  the 
whole  place,  in  spite  of  its  glory  of  coloring,  in  spite  of  the 
grandeur  of  its  vistas  ending  in  snow-covered  peaks  only  six 
miles  away,  in  spite  of  its  friendly  and  familiar  cedars  and 
pines,  in  spite  of  an  occasional  fragrance  of  clematis,  or  twitter 
of  a  sparrow  —  in  spite  of  all  these,  there  is  a  certain  uncanni- 
ness  of  atmosphere,  which  is  at  first  offensive.  I  doubt  if  any- 
body ever  loved  the  Garden  of  the  Gods  at  first  sight.  One 
must  feel  his  way  to  its  beauty  and  rareness,  and  must  learn  to 
appreciate  it  as  one  would  a  new  language ;  even  if  a  man  has 
known  Nature's  tongue  well,  he  will  be  a  helpless  foreigner 
here.* 

Two  of  the  mystic  figures  are  much  alike,  and  being 
anchored  together  at  their  base  by  the  same  rock  stratum 
are  called  "  The  Twins."  Their  ogre-like  heads  remind  one 
of  Dickens'  description  of  the  dwarf  Quilp,  or  of  Victor 
Hugo's  Hunchback  of  Notre  Dame;  ugly  faces  with  rude 
protruding  lips,  their  heads  swathed  in  grey  turbans.  Seen 
in  the  moonlight,  and  especially  if  the  stranger's  eyes 
should  happen  to  fall  upon  them  unexpectedly,  they 
would  assuredly  startle  him  by  their  weird  and  uncouth 
appearance. 

*  I  regret  I  cannot  name  the  author  of  this  beautiful   description, 
which  I  find  among  my  clippings  with  no  mention  of  its  source. 


GARDEN  OF  THE  GODS  193 

More  beautiful  and  impressive  are  the  "  Cathedral 
Spires,"  slender,  slim,  towering  rocks  that  rise  to  heights 
varying  from  100  to  about  250  feet,  the  natural  accompani- 
ments of  the  majestic  Cathedral  Rock  near  by. 

Somewhat  similar  in  effect,  but  more  massive  and  com- 
pact, is  the  "Tower  of  Babel."  This  approaches  300  feet 
in  height,  and  its  spires  are  not  so  pointed  as  those  of  the 
Cathedral,  yet  they  are  fantastic  and  quaint,  and  lend  them- 
selves with  peculiar  fitness  to  their  name. 

Another  of  the  distinctive  features  of  the  rocks  is  that 
of  the  toadstools.  These  vary  in  size  from  tiny  rocks  up  to 
six,  ten,  twelve  and  more  feet  in  diameter.  Some  of  them 
weigh  many  tons  each.  Others  look  like  quaint  Chinese 
hats,  or  a  new  style  of  umbrella.  One  of  these  is  tall 
enough  for  a  man  to  stand  underneath,  and  a  couple  of 
children,  caught  here  by  a  photographer  on  a  rainy  day, 
suggested  that  it  was  a  land  for  the  elves,  where  tiny  lovers 
could  find  that  seclusion  and  shelter  which  is  dear  to  the 
hearts  of  all  lovers,  human  and  fairy.  To  many  visitors 
the  most  interesting  of  all  the  rocks  is  found  to  be  Balanced 
Rock,  a  massive  cube  as  large  as  a  dwelling-house,  balanced 
on  a  pivot-like  point  at  its  base,  as  if  a  child's  strength 
could  upset  it.  Yet  it  is  solid,  fixed,  immovable,  and  has 
so  stood  since  it  was  first  discovered  by  man. 

At  certain  angles  a  fairly  good  human  profile  is  to  be 
seen  upon  the  face  of  Balanced  Rock  —  the  eyes,  nose,  and 
mouth  being  rather  well  adjusted,  though  the  chin  is  out 
of  all  proportion  and  the  brow  and  head  are  "hilly  and 
hollowy"  enough  to  disconcert  the  most  expert  and  expe- 
rienced phrenologist. 

All  these  fantastic  and  quaint  forms  have  been  carved 


194  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

out  of  the  sandstone  by  the  action  of  rain,  wind,  storm, 
sand,  frost,  and  atmospheric  gases.  As  the  gradual  degra- 
dation and  cutting  out  and  down  of  the  surrounding  rocks 
took  place  these  masses  were  slowly  detached  from  the 
parent  stratum,  owing  to  their  having  been  better  protected 
than  the  rest  of  the  rock,  or  because  they  were  composed 
of  more  durable  substances,  more  compacted  together,  per- 
haps, and  thus  better  able  to  resist  the  encroachments  of 
the  gnawing  teeth  of  Time. 

Possibly  the  washing  down  of  torrential  waters  from  the 
nearby  mountains  may  have  helped  considerably  in  their 
earliest  emergence.  Certain  it  is  that  water  and  wind  have 
been  principal  agencies  in  carrying  away  the  dust  and  debris 
of  this  Nature  workshop.  Millions  of  tons  have  been  thus 
disposed  of,  some  to  help  fill  up  the  now  level  country 
beneath,  others  to  aid  the  rivers  in  scouring  out  the  wild 
and  rugged  gorges,  ravines,  and  canyons  that  have  given 
Colorado  and  the  adjacent  states  some  of  the  most  stupen- 
dous scenery  known  to  man. 

Monument  Park.  The  descriptions  already  given  of  the 
Garden  of  the  Gods  are  in  some  measure  appropriate  to 
Monument  Canyon  (or  Park,  as  it  is  more  commonly 
known),  although  some  striking  differences  may  be  noticed 
by  the  careful  observer.  Until  travel  was  rendered  easier 
to  the  Garden  of  the  Gods  Monument  Park  was  the  most 
popular  resort  in  Colorado. 

Imagine  a  great  number  of  gigantic  sugar  loaves,  quite 
irregular  in  shape,  but  all  possessing  the  tapering  form, 
varying  in  height  from  six  to  fifty  feet,  with  each  loaf 
capped  by  a  flat  stone  of  much  darker  color  than  the  loaf, 
and  having  a  shape  not  unlike  a  college  student's  mortar- 


Courtesy  of  U.  S.  Geological  Survey 

IN  MONUMENT  PARK 

FANTASTICALLY    ERODED    PILLARS 


Courtesy  of  U.  S.  Geological  Survey 

IN  MONUMENT  PARK 


GARDEN  OF  THE  GODS  195 

board  —  such  is  Monument  Park.  The  capping  stones  are 
all  that  remain  of  a  later  deposition  of  sandstone,  which 
is  somewhat  harder  and  more  durable  than  the  whiter  sand- 
stone beneath.  Consequently  as  the  lower  stratum  has  been 
eroded  these  caps  have  preserved  the  various  columns  from 
extinction,  though  the  beating  rain,  wind,  and  snow  have 
continued  to  gnaw  them  under  the  protecting  shelter  of 
the  caps. 

The  monuments,  for  the  most  part,  are  ranged  along  the 
low  hills  on  each  side  of  the  park,  which  is  about  a  mile 
wide,  but  here  and  there  one  stands  in  the  open  plain.  There 
are  two  or  three  small  knolls  apart  from  the  hills;  and  on 
these  several  clusters  of  the  columns  are  found  presenting  an 
appearance,  at  a  slight  distance,  very  like  that  of  white 
marble  columns  so  often  found  in  cemeteries. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  OLD  FRANCISCAN  MISSIONS  OF  NEW 
MEXICO,  ARIZONA,  AND  TEXAS 

IN  crossing  the  continent  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific 
every  American,  whose  business  does  not  compel  speed, 
should  proceed  leisurely,  stop  off  on  the  way  and  see  some 
interesting  place  or  locality.  He  should  make  up  a  list  of 
these  "journey  breakers"  and  systematically  read  up  on 
them,  for  if  they  are  places  of  historic  association  or  scien- 
tific interest  —  anything  except  mere  scenery  —  the  more 
knowledge  possessed  about  them  the  more  enjoyable  will 
the  visit  prove  itself  to  be. 

To  such  a  one  I  offer  these  old  Missions  as  well  worthy 
such  study  and  careful  visiting. 

Spain,  just  after  the  discovery  of  America,  was  a  great 
colonizing  nation.  Not  even  Rome  or  Greece,  in  their  days 
of  greatest  power  and  conquest,  were  so  successful  in  their 
planting  of  colonies  in  the  heart  of  subjugated  countries, 
and  impressing  their  language,  foods,  and  religion  upon 
those  whom  they  conquered,  as  were  the  Spaniards.  Every- 
thing they  undertook  was  carried  out,  not  only  with  the 
lust  of  power,  conquest,  and  desire  for  material  gain,  but 
the  volatile  and  excitable  Latin  seemed  to  be  at  the  flood  in 
enthusiasm,  energy,  and  domination.  There  are  such  times, 
undoubtedly,  in  races  as  there  are  in  men,  when  they  reach 
their  prime,  and  are  the  most  daring,  exuberant,  powerful, 

196 


OLD  FRANCISCAN  MISSIONS  197 

and  confident,  and  when  their  greatest  accomplishments  are 
achieved. 

For  the  Spaniards  this  flood-time  came  when  Cortes, 
Pizarro,  Balboa,  and  Coronado  took  possession  of  the  two 
Americas,  and  when  the  Philippines  became  tributary  to 
their  commerce.  But  unlike  the  other  subjugating  nations, 
Spain  was  fired  with  religious  zeal  to  spread  "  the  true 
faith  "  wherever  her  banners  waved.  Religion  was  in  her 
blood,  and  this  came  up  with  the  flood  when  Spain  arose 
in  her  assumption  of  power.  She,  far  more  than  England, 
was  the  earnest,  devoted,  loyal,  and  determined  "defender 
of  the  faith."  Life  was  of  less  importance  than  religion, 
care  for  the  soul's  welfare  so  far  transcended  care  for  the 
body  that  the  Holy  Inquisition  was  instituted.  Better  tor- 
ture men's  bodies  with  rack  and  thumb-screw,  with  crushing 
iron-boots  and  red-hot  pincers ;  aye,  better,  even,  burn  them 
at  the  stake  than  let  them  suffer  the  pangs  and  tortures  of 
everlasting  perdition  in  the  fierce  flames  of  hell !  One  has 
but  to  read  Dante  to  know  how  fervently  this  fierce  and 
dark  theology  took  possession  of  this  impressionable  people. 
And,  believing  as  they  did,  they  felt  it  with  a  vigor  even 
more  potent  than  that  experienced  by  the  Roundheads,  the 
puritans  of  England.  Hence  they  proselyted  with  unquench- 
able zeal,  a  zeal  that  counted  not  their  own  lives  any  more 
than  the  lives  of  those  whose  souls  they  sought  so  long  as 
eternal  salvation  was  gained. 

With  this  spirit  Jesuits,  Franciscans,  Dominicans,  and 
other  Catholic  orders  were  inspired  and  imbued  when  the 
new  fields  of  North  and  South  America  were  opened  up  by 
the  conquistadores.  Here  were  opportunities  to  save  pre- 
cious souls  by  the  hundreds  of  thousands.  The  dusky  sons 


198  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

and  daughters  of  America  were  fruit  for  the  gospel  net, 
and  happy,  blessed,  favored  beyond  compare  would  be  those 
servants  of  God  and  Mother  Church  who  caught  the  most 
and  brought  them  safely  within  the  fold. 

Consequently  never  was  such  a  rage  for  religious  con- 
quest known  as  swept  over  the  New  World  at  this  time. 
With  a  spontaneous  fervor  that  knew  no  halting,  no  reserve, 
that  overcame  all  opposition,  that  overleaped  all  barriers 
and  triumphed  over  all  obstacles,  these  long-gowned  friars 
carried  the  cross  and  administered  the  rites  of  the  church 
in  populous  cities,  rural  communities,  fierce  deserts,  deep 
canyons,  dense  forests,  high  mountains,  lonely  islands. 

Under  this  impulse  the  Catholic  Church  was  established 
all  over  the  Americas,  and,  in  addition,  the  Spanish  lan- 
guage was  imposed  upon,  or  absorbed  by,  the  people;  so 
much  so  that,  in  spite  of  all  the  changes,  the  revolutions, 
the  counter  influences,  they  remain  the  most  steady  and 
permanent  factors  in  their  lives  even  to  this  present  day. 

Among  other  portions  of  the  New  World  that  felt  their 
influences  was  Lower  California.  It  was  Christianized  by 
the  Jesuit  Fathers  Eusebius  Kino,  Juan  Maria  Salvatierra, 
and  Juan  Ugarte,  who  began  their  devoted  and  self-sacri- 
ficing labors  as  early  as  1697,  and  in  due  time  a  chain  of 
missions,  twenty-three  in  number,  reaching  almost  the  entire 
length  of  the  peninsula,  was  established,  the  ruins  of  which 
remain  to  this  day. 

Long  prior  to  this  time  both  Jesuits  and  Franciscans  had 
reached  out  towards  New  Mexico.  Ofiate  had  made  his 
reconquest  of  the  country  in  1595-1598,  and  in  1630  Padre 
Alonzo  de  Benavides  reported  to  the  King  of  Spain  that 
there  were  about  fifty  friars  at  work  in  New  Mexico,  serv- 


Photo  by  H.  C.  Tibbitts 


SAN  XAVIER  MISSION 

NEAR  TUCSON,   ARIZONA 


•7, 


Photo  by  author 

SAN  JOSE  DE  TUMACACORI  MISSION 

NEAR    TUBAC,    ARIZONA 


ESPADA  MISSION,  NEAR  SAN  ANTONIO,  TEXAS 


SAN  JOSE  MISSION,  NEAR  SAN  ANTONIO,  TEXAS 


OLD  FRANCISCAN  MISSIONS  199 

ing  over  sixty  thousand  natives  that  had  accepted  Chris- 
tianity; that  these  lived  in  ninety  pueblos,  grouped  into 
twenty-five  conventos  or  missions,  and  that  each  pueblo  had 
its  own  church. 

This  was  a  wonderful  record.  As  far  as  we  know  the 
first  church  built  in  this  new  province  was  that  of  San 
Gabriel,  about  1 598,  and  the  fathers  must  have  been  indefat- 
igable to  produce,  with  little  or  no  other  labor  than  that  of 
the  Indians  themselves,  ninety  churches  in  thirty  years. 

Some  of  these  churches  still  remain,  though  only  to  be 
found  in  sad  ruins.  Most  of  them  were  completely  destroyed 
in  the  great  Pueblo  Rebellion  of  1680,  when  the  Indians 
successfully  arose  and  drove  out  the  Spaniards  from  New 
Mexico.  Fascinating  stories  are  still  told  of  those  early 
days  by  the  Indians,  when  they  get  together  around  the  fire 
in  winter  time,  and  happy  is  that  white  man  who  can  prevail 
upon  them  to  let  him  enter  the  circle  of  interested  listeners. 

The  natives  did  not  long  keep  their  independence,  how- 
ever. In  1692  Don  Diego  de  Vargas  began  the  work  of  the 
reconquest,  and  by  1700  the  Spanish  rule  was  again  firmly 
fastened  on  New  Mexico,  never  to  be  released  until  Mexico 
herself  severed  the  bonds  that  bound  her  to  the  mother 
country,  became  a  republic,  and  New  Mexico  one  of  its 
provinces.  During  those  earlier  years  of  reconquest  many 
of  the  churches  were  built  which  are  found  today.  Some 
of  them  occupy  the  sites  hallowed  by  the  blood  of  the 
martyrs  who  fought  in  defense  of  the  earlier  structures. 

As  related  in  separate  chapters,  there  are  churches  at 
Zuni,  Acoma,  Santa  Fe,  etc.,  while  at  other  places  only  ruins 
remain.  At  Awatobi  —  one  of  the  Hopi  towns  —  the 
natives  showed  kindness  to  the  long-gowned  Franciscans, 


200  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

and  the  medicine  men  of  the  other  Hopi  villages  were  so 
enraged  at  this  complaisance  that  they  incited  their  follow- 
ers to  a  complete  destruction  of  Awatobi.  This  was  accom- 
plished, and  several  hundred  Awatobians  lost  their  lives  —  a 
story  I  have  told  in  my  book,  The  Old  Missions  of  Arizona, 
New  Mexico  and  Texas. 

To  know  the  history  of  these  old  missions  is  to  be  famil- 
iar with  some  of  the  most  interesting  epochs  in  American 
history,  hence  they  are  well  worthy  the  study  that  will  be 
necessary  ere  one  may  learn  all  that  he  should  know. 

While  De  Vargas  was  engaged  in  the  reconquest  of  New 
Mexico  events  were  shaping  that  were  to  lead  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  small  chain  of  missions  in  Texas.  The  French 
were  becoming  very  active  in  that  direction,  and  the  Spanish 
viceroy  determined  to  forestall  action  which  might  lead  to 
future  claims  on  behalf  of  the  French  Crown.  Hence,  in 
1715,  the  Duke  of  Linares,  the  viceroy  before  mentioned, 
sent  troops  of  Franciscan  friars  into  Texas,  to  establish 
settlements,  Christianize  the  Indians,  and,  incidentally,  pre- 
vent any  Frenchman  gaining  foothold  in  the  same  land. 

Soon  a  fort  was  established  on  the  western  bank  of  the 
San  Pedro  River,  and  it  was  called  San  Antonio  de  Valero. 
In  1718  a  Franciscan  mission  was  founded  in  the  same 
settlement.  This  afterwards  became  the  world-famed  and 
historic  Alamo,  where  Travis,  Bowie,  Crockett,  Bonham, 
and  about  170  other  Texan  heroes  withstood  the  savage  and 
determined  attacks  of  Santa  Anna,  the  Mexican,  with  his 
6,000  troops,  until  every  last  man  was  slaughtered.  But  the 
victory  cost  Santa  Anna  dearly.  He  lost  two  thousand 
killed  and  over  three  hundred  wounded. 

The  battlefield  of  San  Jacinto  was  the  answer  of  the 


DOORWAY,  SAN  JOSE  MISSION 

NEAR  SAN  ANTONIO,  TEXAS 


OLD  FRANCISCAN  MISSIONS  201 

United  States  to  Santa  Anna's  slaughter  of  the  Texans, 
and  the  defeated  Mexican  was  captured  and  should  have 
been  severely  dealt  with.  Political  influences,  however, 
were  brought  to  bear  to  save  him,  and  he  was  ultimately 
released  to  cause  more  trouble  in  Mexico. 

To  return  to  the  Texan  missions.  The  foundation  stone 
for  a  church  was  laid  where  the  Cathedral  of  San  Fernando, 
in  the  city  of  San  Antonio,  now  stands,  in  1738,  and  it 
occupied  the  site  until  the  modern  building  was  erected  in 
1873.  Prior  to  the  establishment  of  this  church  for  the 
presidio  of  San  Antonio  de  Bexar,  other  missions  had  been 
established  on  the  river  nearby  —  those  of  San  Juan  and 
San  Francisco  de  la  Espada  in  1716,  and  that  of  San  Jose 
in  1820.  Ten  years  later  that  of  La  Concepcion  Purissima 
de  Acuna  was  started,  so  that  now  four  missions,  besides 
those  of  the  Alamo  and  the  Cathedral,  are  to  be  seen  within 
six  or  eight  miles  of  San  Antonio. 

These  are  all  of  easy  access.  Travelers  going  to  Cali- 
fornia over  the  Sunset  Route  of  the  Southern  Pacific  can 
stop  over  at  San  Antonio,  and  in  one  day  —  though  more 
should  be  taken  —  can  visit  all  the  six  buildings. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  missions  of  New  Mexico  and 
Arizona  require  time.  Except  for  that  of  Taos  and  of  the 
other  pueblos  north  of  Santa  Fe,  which  are  reached  from 
the  New  Mexican  Branch  of  the  Denver  &  Rio  Grande  Rail- 
way, all  the  others,  except  two,  are  best  reached,  and  some 
are  directly  on  the  main  transcontinental  line  of  the  Santa 
Fe.  The  advertising  departments  of  all  these  railways  will 
be  glad  to  furnish  such  information  as  is  at  their  disposal. 
The  two  exceptions  referred  to  are  the  very  interesting  mis- 
sions of  San  Xavier  del  Bac,  near  Tucson,  and  that  of  San 


202  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Jose  de  Tumacacori,  near  the  Mexican  border  in  Southern 
Arizona,  and  close  to  the  line  of  the  Southern  Pacific  of 
Mexico,  which  practically  reaches  from  Tucson  to  Tepic. 

San  Xavier  is  a  magnificent  building,  recently  restored 
by  the  government,  and  easily  reached  by  automobile  from 
Tucson.  That  of  Tumacacori  was  generally  unknown  and 
neglected  until  some  dozen  or  more  years  ago,  when  T  drove 
to  it  from  Tucson,  and  found  it  in  the  hands  of  an  Apache 
Indian,  the  main  portion  of  the  church  used  as  a  stable, 
and  no  care  whatever  being  taken  of  it.  I  made  a  number 
of  photographs  of  the  interesting  building,  which  showed, 
however,  that  something  must  speedily  be  done  to  prevent 
it  from  total  collapse.  It  is  now  a  national  monument,  and 
it  is  to  be  hoped  will  be  cared  for,  and  saved  for  the  genera- 
tions of  the  future. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  YELLOWSTONE  NATIONAL  PARK 

'PARKLING  waterfalls,  glacially  fed  fountains,  hot  bub- 
bling mud-pots,  a  wildly  dashing  river,  high-spouting 
geysers,  a  natural  glass  mountain,  gorgeously  glowing  can- 
yons, rare  and  majestic  trees,  lakes  of  weird  and  mys- 
terious color,  built-up  terraces  of  grotesque  architecture, 
rugged  and  picturesque  mountains,  tree  petrifications,  spas- 
modically ebullient  hot  springs,  roaring  steam  vents, 
quieter  fumaroles,  together  with  wild  animals  tamed  and 
made  gentle  by  friendly  intercourse  with  man  —  these  go 
to  make  up  the  Yellowstone  National  Park. 

When  the  geysers  of  the  Yellowstone  were  discovered 
no  one  seems  to  know,  yet  the  Yellowstone  River  undoubt- 
edly was  known  to  trappers  and  others  before  1800,  as 
David  Thompson,  connected  with  the  British  fur  trade  in 
the  Northwest,  gives,  in  his  journal,  the  location  of  the 
stream  and  spells  it  Yellow  Stone.  Like  so  many  others 
of  the  Wonders  of  the  West  no  one  was  prepared  to 
believe  the  stories  of  the  Yellowstone  when  first  told.  The 
unbeliever  and  doubter  have  always  abounded.  He  lives  yet 
—  in  large  numbers.  John  Colter,  who  had  come  out  with 
Lewis  and  Clark  on  their  memorable  journey  of  western 
exploration,  received  permission  to  leave  the  expedition  in 
1806.  He  became  a  trapper  and  undoubtedly  was  the  first 
white  man  to  become  familiar  with  the  geysers,  mud 

203 


204  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

springs,  steam  vents,  and  other  wonders  of  the  Yellowstone. 
Yet  when  he  returned  to  civilization  and  told  of  what  he 
had  seen  he  was  regarded  as  a  modern  Munchausen,  and 
his  stories  were  set  down  as  lies  or  the  fictions  of  a  dis- 
ordered imagination.  Some  thirty  years  later  a  noted 
western  character,  Jim  Bridger,  made  considerable  repu- 
tation as  a  wild  and  fantastic  liar,  simply  because  he 
told  facts  with  which  the  Yellowstone  had  made  him 
familiar. 

As  far  as  is  known,  the  first  reasonably  accurate  account 
of  the  Firehole  Geyser  Basin  was  written  by  an  employee 
of  the  American  Fur  Company,  Warren  Angus  Ferris. 
This  was  some  time  in  the  early  forties.  From  that  time 
on,  popular  knowledge  increased  with  such  rapidity  that 
in  1869,  1870,  and  1871  three  parties  went  out  to  explore 
the  region  and  thus  forever  set  at  rest  all  questions  con- 
cerning it.  The  first  party  consisted  of  only  three  men,  and 
was  a  purely  private  affair ;  the  second  was  a  sort  of  semi- 
official expedition,  while  the  third  was  sent  out  under  the 
scientific  and  military  departments  of  the  United  States 
Government.  The  immediate  result  of  the  last  expedition 
was  that,  in  1872,  Congress  set  aside  the  park  area,  as 
bounded  by  Dr.  F.  V.  Hayden,  the  eminent  head  of  the 
Geological  Survey  of  the  Territories,  as  a  National  Park. 
It  is  a  rectangular  area,  fifty-five  by  sixty-five  miles  in 
extent,  and  occupies  the  northwestern  corner  of  the  state 
of  Wyoming  and  strips  of  the  adjacent  states  —  Idaho  and 
Montana.  The  whole  region  is  mountainous,  snow-clad 
peaks  looking  down  upon  the  geyser-punctured  levels  from 
elevations  of  ten  to  fourteen  thousand  feet.  In  traveling 
from  Yellowstone  Station,  Montana,  over  the  Park  stage 


Copyright  by  Northern  Pacific  Ry.  Co. 

DOME  GEYSER,  YELLOWSTONE  NATIONAL  PARK 


Courtesy  of  Northern  Pacific  Ry.  Co. 

PUNCH  BOWL  SPRING 


Copyright  by  Haynes,  St.  Paul 

PULPIT  TERRACE 


Copyright  by  Northern  Pacific  Ry.  Co. 

JUPITER  TERRACE 


YELLOWSTONE  NATIONAL  PARK  205 

road  one  ascends  from  6,700  feet  to  8,300  feet  at  the  cross- 
ing of  the  Continental  Divide. 

The  Park  is  under  the  control  of  the  Department  of  the 
Interior,  and  all  the  roads  have  been  built  by  Government 
engineers.  Over  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles  have  been 
so  constructed,  wide  enough  to  allow  coaches  to  pass  at 
every  point,  and  reinforced  concrete,  or  steel  bridges  span 
the  streams.  The  hotels  are  recently  built  and  afford  trav- 
elers every  comfort  and  luxury. 

The  Park  season  opens  June  16,  and  closes  September  25, 
and  July  is  a  good  month  for  a  visit. 

One  may  reach  the  Yellowstone  from  Gardiner,  a  station 
on  the  Northern  Pacific,  at  the  northern  boundary,  or  Yel- 
lowstone, on  the  Union  Pacific,  on  the  western  boundary. 
Both  companies  will  furnish  information  as  to  their  respect- 
ive routes. 

The  regular  tours  of  the  Park  naturally  include  the  most 
striking  features  and  scenic  attractions.  These  are  the 
geysers,  the  terraces,  the  hot  springs,  the  bubbling  mud  vol- 
canoes, the  canyon  of  the  Yellowstone  River,  with  its  Upper 
and  Lower  Falls,  the  obsidian  cliff,  etc. 

Geysers  are  simply  hot  springs  in  a  state  of  eruption. 
The  chief  of  these  are  found  in  Lower,  Middle,  Upper, 
and  Norris  Basins.  The  three  first  basins  are  on  the  Fire- 
hole  River,  on  the  western  side  of  the  Park.  There  are  lit- 
erally thousands  of  objects  of  interest  in  these  basins,  and 
merely  to  enumerate  them  would  be  to  weary  the  reader. 

The  Great  Fountain  Geyser,  though  not  so  near  the  Foun- 
tain Hotel  as  the  Fountain  Geyser,  is  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable in  the  Park.  General  Chittenden  says  of  it: 

Its  formation  is  quite  unlike  that  of  any  other.    At  first 


206  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

sight  the  visitor  is  tempted  to  believe  that  someone  has  here 
placed  a  vast  pedestal  upon  which  to  erect  a  monument.  It 
is  a  broad,  circular  table  about  two  feet  high,  composed  en- 
tirely of  hard  siliceous  deposit.  In  its  surface  are  numerous 
pools  moulded  and  ornamented  in  a  manner  quite  unapproach- 
able, at  least  on  so  large  a  scale,  in  any  other  part  of  the 
Park.  In  the  center  of  the  pedestal  where  the  monument 
ought  to  stand,  is  a  large  irregular  pool  of  great  depth,  full 
of  hot  water,  forming,  to  all  appearances,  a  lovely  quiescent 
spring.  At  times  of  eruption  the  contents  of  this  spring,  are 
hurled  bodily  upward  to  a  height  sometimes  reaching  100  feet. 
The  torrent  of  water  which  follows  the  prodigious  down-pour- 
ing upon  the  face  of  the  pedestal  flows  away  in  all  directions 
over  the  white  geyserite  plain.* 

In  this  same  basin,  too,  is  the  Firehole,  from  which  the 
river  gets  its  name.  Many  people  do  not  go  to  see  it,  as  It 
is  not  on  the  stage-line  and,  being  off  the  beaten  track,  is  a 
little  hard  to  find.  Then,  too,  it  is  uncertain,  owing  to  the 
fact  that  when  the  wind  agitates  its  surface  its  chief  attrac- 
tion is  not  made  manifest. 

It  is  a  large  hot  spring.  Apparently  arising  from  its 
clear  and  pellucid  depths  is  a  light-colored  flame,  which  is 
extinguished  in  the  water  just  before  it  reaches  the  surface. 
Flickering  back  and  forth  like  the  flame  of  a  torch  in  a 
gusty  wind,  it  sometimes  possesses  a  distinctly  ruddy  tinge. 
Under  proper  conditions  the  illusion  is  perfect,  and  the 
onlooker  is  positive  he  is  seeing  flames  under  the  water. 
It  is  caused  by  jets  of  superheated  steam  which  emerge 
through  a  fissure  in  the  rock.  These  divide  the  water  just 
as  bubbles  do  on  a  smaller  scale,  and  the  reflection  from 
the  surface  makes  the  flame-like  appearance,  which  is  inten- 
sified by  the  black  background  of  the  bottom  and  sides  of 
the  pool. 

*  The  Yellowstone  National  Park,  By  Hiram  M.  Chittenden,  Stewart 
&  Kidd  Co.,  Cincinnati,  1915. 


Copyright  by  Northern  Pacific  Ry.  Co. 

TOWER  FALLS 


Copyright  by  Northern  Pacific  Ry.  Co. 

OLD  FAITHFUL  GEYSER 


"YELLOWSTONE  NATIONAL  PARK  207 

Prismatic  Lake  is  exquisitely  beautiful.  It  rests  on  the 
summit  of  a  self -built  mound,  gently  sloping  in  all  direc- 
tions. The  overflow  from  the  spring  runs  over  these  slopes 
in  tiny  rivulets,  the  channels  of  which  interlace  each  other, 
giving  the  Lake  the  appearance  of  a  large  spider,  250 
to  300  feet  in  size,  with  its  radiating  web.  Steam  hovers 
over  it  almost  incessantly  which  generally  bears  a  crimson 
tinge,  but  when  the  wind  removes  this  steam  covering,  the 
water  is  found  to  possess  a  prismatic  play  of  colors  that  is 
alluring  and  enchanting. 

Perhaps  the  best  known  of  all  the  geysers  is  Old  Faithful 
in  the  Upper  Basin.  While  the  Giant,  Giantess,  Grand, 
Splendid,  and  Excelsior  have  more  powerful  eruptions,  the 
Bee  Hive  is  more  artistic  in  its  appearance,  and  the  Great 
Fountain  has  a  more  wonderful  formation,  Old  Faithful 
partakes  of  all  these  characteristics  with  the  invaluable 
addition  of  uniform  periodicity  of  action.  Every  sixty- 
five  minutes  it  may  be  relied  upon. 

Night  and  day,  winter  and  summer,  seen  or  unseen,  this  tre- 
mendous fountain  has  been  playing  for  untold  ages.  Only  in 
thousands  of  years  can  its  lifetime  be  reckoned ;  for  the  visible 
work  it  has  wrought,  and  its  present  infinitely  slow  rate  of 
building  up  its  cone,  fairly  appall  the  inquirer  who  seeks  to 
learn  its  real  age.* 

Let  us  stand  and  see  it  in  operation.  It  is  in  the  center 
of  an  oblong  mound,  145  by  215  feet  at  the  base,  twenty 
by  fifty-four  feet  at  the  summit,  and  about  twelve  feet  high. 
The  tube,  which  probably  started  through  a  rock  fissure,  is 
two  by  six  feet,  inside  measurement.  Lieutenant  Doane, 
who  first  described  it,  grew  eloquent  over  the  rare  and 
*  The  Yellowstone  National  Park. 


208  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

exquisite  quality  of  the  natural  adornment  of  the  crater. 
He  says: 

Close  around  the  opening  are  built  up  walls,  eight  feet  in 
height,  of  spherical  nodules,  from  six  inches  to  three  feet  in 
diameter.  These  stony  spheres,  in  turn,  are  covered  with 
minute  globules  of  stalagmite,  incrusted  with  a  thin  glazing 
of  silica.  The  rock,  at  a  distance,  appears  the  color  of  ashes 
of  roses,  but  near  at  hand  shows  a  metallic  gray,  with  pink  and 
yellow  margins  of  the  utmost  delicacy.  Being  constantly  wet, 
the  colors  are  brilliant  beyond  description.* 

The  rest  of  the  mound  is  equally  beautiful,  the  deposits 
apparently  as  delicate  as  the  down  on  a  butterfly's  wing, 
both  in  texture  and  coloring,  yet  are  firm  and  solid  beneath 
the  tread. 

Now  a  few  growls  from  the  throat  of  the  geyser  bids 
us  be  ready.  Without  further  warning  a  graceful  column 
of  water  six  feet  in  diameter  rises  to  a  height  of  150  feet, 
with  no  other  noise  than  that  made  by  an  ordinary  hose, 
somewhat  intensified.  For  several  minutes  it  leaps  upward 
with  recurrent  intervals,  the  great  mass  of  water  falling 
directly  back  into  the  basin  and  flowing  down  the  mound's 
slopes  in  large  quantities.  The  breeze  sometimes  seizes 
the  stream  and  carries  it  away,  unfolding  it  like  an  enor- 
mous prismatic  flag  from  its  watery  standard.  Spray  and 
steam  glisten  and  sparkle  in  the  sunbeams  like  jeweled  lace 
fit  only  for  fairies  to  wear.  In  the  glow  of  the  sunrise  or 
sunset  it  flashes  forth  fire  like  the  ruby,  and  scintillates  in 
radiant  splendor  as  from  a  hundred  thousand  opals.  In 
the  moonlight  it  seems  like  some  solemn  ceremonial  con- 
nected with  a  bridal,  the  floating  veils  becoming  almost 
unearthly  in  their  snowy  whiteness. 

*  Quoted   in    Wonders   of   the    Yellowstone,  by   James    Richardson. 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  1886. 


YELLOWSTONE  NATIONAL  PARK  209 

Not  far  away  is  the  Giantess,  a  fountain  geyser  of  infre- 
quent and  irregular  operation,  and  happy  is  that  visitor  who 
happens  to  be  present  when  it  deigns  to  perform.  Mr. 
N.  P.  Langford,  the  first  superintendent  of  the  Park,  thus 
describes  the  first  eruption  known  to  have  been  seen  by 
white  men: 

No  water  could  be  discovered,  but  we  could  distinctly  hear 
it  gurgling  and  boiling  at  a  great  distance  below.  Suddenly 
it  began  to  rise,  boiling  and  spluttering,  and  sending  out  huge 
masses  of  steam,  causing  a  general  stampede  of  our  company, 
driving  us  some  distance  from  our  point  of  observation. 
When  within  about  forty  feet  of  the  surface  it  became  sta- 
tionary, and  we  returned  to  look  down  upon  it.  It  was  foam- 
ing and  surging  at  a  terrible  rate,  occasionally  emitting  small 
jets  of  hot  water  nearly  to  the  mouth  of  the  orifice.  All  at 
once  it  seemed  seized  with  a  fearful  spasm,  and  rose  with 
incredible  rapidity,  hardly  affording  us  time  to  flee  to  a  safe 
distance,  when  it  burst  from  the  orifice  with  terrific  momen- 
tum, rising  in  a  column  the  full  size  of  this  immense  aperture 
(eighteen  feet)  to  the  height  of  sixty  feet;  and  through  and 
out  of  the  apex  of  this  vast  aqueous  mass,  five  or  six  lesser 
jets  or  round  columns  of  water,  varying  in  size  from  six  to 
fifteen  inches  in  diameter,  were  projected  to  the  marvelous 
height  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  These  lesser  jets,  so 
much  higher  than  the  main  column,  and  shooting  through  it, 
doubtless  proceed  from  auxiliary  pipes  leading  into  the  prin- 
cipal orifice  near  the  bottom,  where  the  explosive  force  is 
greater.  .  .  .  This  grand  eruption  continued  for  twenty  min- 
utes, and  was  the  most  magnificent  sight  we  ever  witnessed. 
We  were  standing  on  the  side  of  the  geyser  nearest  the  sun, 
the  gleams  of  which  filled  the  sparkling  column  of  water  and 
spray  with  myriads  of  rainbows,  whose  arches  were  constantly 
changing,  dipping  and  fluttering  hither  and  thither  and  dis- 
appearing only  to  be  succeeded  by  others,  again  and  again, 
amid  the  aqueous  column,  while  the  minute  globules  into  which 
the  spent  jets  were  diffused  when  falling  sparkled  like  a 
shower  of  diamonds,  and  around  every  shadow  which  the 
denser  clouds  of  vapor,  interrupting  the  sun's  rays,  cast  upon 


210  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

the  column,  could  be  seen  a  luminous  circle  radiant  with  all 
the  colors  of  the  prism,  and  resembling  the  halo  of  glory  repre- 
sented in  paintings  as  encircling  the  head  of  Divinity.  All 
that  we  had  previously  witnessed  seemed  tame  in  comparison 
with  the  perfect  grandeur  and  beauty  of  this  display.* 

There  are  many  mud  volcanoes  in  the  park,  the  chief  of 
which  Mr.  Langford  thus  describes : 

About  two  hundred  yards  from  a  cave  which  ejected  hot 
water  with  great  force  is  a  most  singular  phenomenon,  which 
we  called  Muddy  Geyser.  It  presents  a  funnel-shaped  orifice 
in  the  midst  of  a  basin  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  diameter, 
with  sloping  sides  of  clay,  and  sand.  The  crater  or  orifice  at 
the  surface  is  thirty  by  fifty  feet  in  diameter.  It  tapers  quite 
uniformly  to  the  depth  of  about  thirty  feet,  where  the  water 
may  be  seen,  when  the  geyser  is  in  repose,  presenting  a  surface 
of  six  or  seven  feet  in  breadth.  The  flow  of  this  geyser  is 
regular  every  six  hours.  The  water  rises  gradually,  com- 
mencing to  boil  when  about  half  way  to  the  surface,  and 
occasionally  breaking  forth  in  great  violence.  When  the  crater 
is  filled,  it  is  expelled  from  it  in  a  splashing,  scattered  mass 
ten  or  fifteen  feet  in  thickness  to  the  height  of  forty  feet.f 

Another  mud  geyser  he  thus  describes : 

While  returning  by  a  new  route  to  our  camp,  dull,  thunder- 
ing sounds,  which  General  Washburn  likened  to  frequent 
discharges  of  a  distant  mortar,  broke  upon  our  ears.  We  fol- 
lowed their  direction,  and  found  them  to  proceed  from  a  mud 
volcano,  which  occupied  the  slope  of  a  small  hill,  embowered 
in  a  grove  of  pines.  Dense  volumes  of  steam  shot  into  the 
air  with  each  report,  through  a  crater  thirty  feet  in  diameter. 
The  reports,  though  irregular,  occurred  as  often  as  every 
five  seconds,  and  could  be  distinctly  heard  half  a  mile.  Each 
alternate  report  shook  the  ground  a  distance  of  two  hundred 
yards  or  more,  and  the  massive  jets  of  vapor  which  accom- 
panied them  burst  forth  like  the  smoke  of  burning  gunpowder. 

*  Wonders  of  the  Yellowstone. 
t  Ibid. 


Courtesy  of  Northern  Pacific  Ry.  Co. 

GROTTO  GEYSER 


Courtesy  of  Northern  Pacific  Ry.  Co. 

CLEOPATRA  TERRACE 


Copyright  by  Northern  Pacific  Ry.  Co. 

SILVER  CORD  CASCADES 


YELLOWSTONE  NATIONAL  PARK  211 

It  was  impossible  to  stand  on  the  edge  of  that  side  of  the 
crater  opposite  the  wind,  and  one  of  our  party  was  rewarded 
for  his  temerity  in  venturing  too  near  the  rim,  by  being  thrown 
by  the  force  of  the  volume  of  steam  violently  down  the  outer 
side  of  the  crater.* 

Dr.  Hayden  was  much  impressed  by  this  volcano.  He 
says: 

It  does  not  boil  with  an  impulse  like  most  of  the  mud 
springs,  but  with  a  constant  roar  which  shakes  the  ground  for 
a  considerable  distance,  and  may  be  heard  for  half  a  mile.  A 
dense  column  of  steam  is  ever  rising,  filling  the  crater,  but 
now  and  then  a  passing  breeze  will  remove  it  for  a  moment, 
revealing  one  of  the  most  terrific  sights  one  could  well  imag- 
ine. The  contents  are  composed  of  thin  mud  in  a  continual 
state  of  the  most  violent  agitation,  like  an  immense  caldron 
of  mush  submitted  to  a  constant,  uniform,  but  most  intense 
heat.f 

Of  the  canyon  of  the  Yellowstone  River  and  its  falls  a 
brief  description  must  suffice.  Not  so  vast  and  awe-inspir- 
ing as  its  great  counterpart  of  the  Colorado  River,  many 
deem  its  coloring  more  vivid,  varied,  and  wonderful.  It  is 
justly  entitled  to  rank  among  the  natural  wonders  of  the 
world,  for  few  scenes  so  completely  unite  as  it  does  the  two 
requisites  of  majesty  and  beauty. 

The  canyon  in  its  largest  section  measures  2,000  feet  at 
the  top,  200  feet  at  the  bottom,  and  is  1,200  feet  deep. 
General  Chittenden  says  of  it: 

It  is  volcanic  rock  through  which  the  river  has  cut  its  way 
that  gives  the  Grand  Canyon  of  the  Yellowstone  its  distinctive 
character.  It  is  preeminently  a  canyon  of  color.  The  hue  has 
no  existence  which  cannot  be  found  there.  "  Hung  up  and  let 
down  and  spread  abroad  are  all  the  colors  of  the  land,  sea,  and 
sky,"  says  Talmage,  without  hyperbole.  From  the  dark,  for- 

*  Wonders  of  the  Yellowstone. 
t  Ibid. 


212  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

est-bordered  brink  the  sides  descend  for  the  most  part  with 
the  natural  slope  of  the  loose  rock,  but  frequently  broken 
by  vertical  ledges  and  isolated  pinnacles  which  give  a  castel- 
lated and  romantic  air  to  the  whole.  Eagles  build  their  nests 
here  and  soar  midway  through  the  vast  chasm  far  below  the 
beholder.* 

Half  a  mile  above  the  Upper  Falls  the  Yellowstone  gives 
no  intimation  of  its  approaching  career  of  wildness  and 
grandeur.  It  rolls  peacefully  between  low  verdant  banks 
and  over  pebbly  beaches  or  spaces  of  quicksand,  with  beau- 
tiful curves  and  a  majestic  motion.  Mr.  Langford  says 
of  the  Upper  Falls : 

It  is  entirely  unlike  the  Lower  Fall.  For  some  distance 
above  it  the  river  breaks  into  frightful  rapids.  The  stream 
is  narrowed  between  the  rocks  as  it  approaches  the  brink  and 
bounds  with  impatient  struggles  for  release,  leaping  through 
the  stony  jaws  in  a  sheet  of  snow-white  foam  over  a  precipice 
nearly  perpendicular,  140  feet  high.  Midway  in  its  descent 
the  entire  volume  of  water  is  carried  by  the  sloping  surface 
of  an  intervening  ledge  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  beyond  the  ver- 
tical base  of  the  precipice,  gaining  therefrom  a  novel  and  inter- 
esting feature.  The  churning  of  the  water  upon  the  rocks 
reduces  it  to  a  mass  of  foam  and  spray,  through  which  all 
the  colors  of  the  solar  spectrum  are  reproduced  in  astonish- 
ing profusion.  What  this  cataract  lacks  in  sublimity  is  more 
than  compensated  by  picturesqueness.  The  rocks  which  over- 
shadow it  do  not  veil  it  from  the  open  light.  It  is  up  amid 
the  pine  foliage  which  crowns  the  adjacent  hills,  the  grand 
feature  of  a  landscape  unrivalled  for  beauties  of  vegetation 
as  well  as  of  rock  and  glen.f 

Of  the  Lower  Fall,  General  Chittenden  has  this  to  say: 

This  must  be  placed  in  the  front  rank  of  similar  phenomena. 
It  carries  not  one-twentieth  the  water  of  Niagara,  but  Niagara 

*  The  Yellowstone  National  Park.  By  H.  M.  Chittenden,  Stewart  & 
Kidd  Co.,  Cincinnati. 

t  Wonders  of  the  Yellowstone. 


YELLOWSTONE  NATIONAL  PARK  213 

is  in  no  single  part  so  beautiful.  Its  height  is  310  feet.  Its 
descent  is  very  regular,  slightly  broken  by  a  point  of  rock 
on  the  right  bank.  A  third  of  the  fall  is  hidden  behind  the 
vast  cloud  of  spray  which  forever  conceals  the  mad  play  of 
the  waters  beneath;  but  the  mighty  turmoil  of  that  recess  in 
the  rocks  may  be  judged  from  the  deep-toned  thunder  which 
rises  in  ceaseless  cadence  and  jars  the  air  for  miles  around.* 

To  many  visitors  the  stream  far  down  in  the  bottom  of 
the  canyon  is  the  crowning  beauty  of  the  whole  scene.  It 
is  so  distant  that  its  rapid  course  is  diminished  to  the 
gentlest  movement,  and  its  continuous  roar  to  the  subdued 
murmur  of  the  pine  forests.  Its  winding,  hide-and-seek 
course,  its  dark  surface  where  the  shadows  cover  it,  its 
bright  limpid  green  under  the  play  of  the  sunlight,  its  ever- 
recurring  foam-white  patches,  and  particularly  its  display 
of  life  where  all  around  is  silent  and  motionless,  make  it 
a  thing  of  entrancing  beauty  to  all  who  behold  it. 

Here,  then,  in  imperfect  outline  is  the  Yellowstone  Na- 
tional Park  presented.  Alluring,  mysterious,  enchanting 
in  the  peculiar  rarity  of  its  attractions,  combining  a  won- 
derful variety  with  which  to  play  upon  the  varied  emotions 
of  mankind,  embowered  in  majestic  ranges  of  mountains 
that  in  themselves  demand  homage  by  their  surpassing 
grandeur,  every  traveled  American  must  see  and  know  the 
Yellowstone  before  he  can  regard  his  ordinary  education 
as  complete.  A  tour,  with  General  Chittenden's  excellent 
manual  in  hand  (from  which  quotations  have  been  made), 
will  afford  immense  satisfaction  and  lasting  pleasure. 

*  The  Yellowstone  National  Park. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

ON  THE  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT— THE  GLACIER 
NATIONAL  PARK,  MONTANA 

EIGHTY  glaciers,  some  of  them  five  square  miles  in 
area,  over  250  lakes,  surrounded  by  steep  and  beauti- 
fully wooded  mountains  or  precipitous  rock  walls,  and  com- 
prising 915,000  acres  in  all,  this  wonderful  Montana  park 
is  worthy  its  name,  and  was  set  apart  for  the  public  pleasure 
none  too  soon.  On  the  north  it  touches  Canada,  on  the 
south  is  bounded  by  the  Great  Northern  Railway,  on  the 
east  by  the  Blackfeet  Indian  Reservation,  and  on  the  west 
by  the  Flathead  River.  Not  its  least  charm  is  its  majestic 
mountain  peaks,  Mount  Cleveland,  10,438  feet;  Mt.  Jack- 
son, 10,123  feet,  and  a  score  or  more  of  others  ranging  in 
height  from  8,000  to  10,000  feet  above  sea-level.  It  is  a 
veritable  Continental  Divide,  for  waters  start  from  these 
crests  that  flow  westward  into  the  Pacific,  northward  into 
Hudson's  Bay,  and  south  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 

While  one  cannot  automobile  directly  into  the  nose  of  a 
glacier  here,  as  is  possible  in  the  Mt.  Rainier  National  Park, 
he  can  have  far  more  extent  of  automobile  riding  in  the 
interior  of  the  park  itself.  For  a  fine  road  has  been  con- 
structed reaching  from  Glacier  Park  Station,  on  the  Great 
Northern  Railway,  over  fifty  miles  northward,  to  the  Mc- 
Dermott  Lake.  Standing  with  open  arms  of  welcome  at  each 
end  of  this  road  are  magnificent  hotels,  Glacier  Park  Hotel, 

214 


THE  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  215 

and  Many-Glacier  Hotel.  Both  are  log  hotels,  in  perfect 
keeping  with  their  surroundings,  and  each  has  accommoda- 
tions for  over  400  guests.  They  are  owned  and  operated 
by  the  Great  Northern  Railway.  It  would  be  a  great  error, 
however,  to  conceive  of  these  hotels  as  mere  mountain 
makeshifts.  When  it  is  known  that  each  of  these  hotels 
cost  a  half  a  million  dollars,  and  that  the  forest  lobby  of 
the  Glacier  Park  Hotel  is  already  famous  as  one  of  the  most 
striking  hotel  lobbies  in  the  world,  one  will  realize  that 
provision  is  made  for  a  large  and  first-class  clientele,  who 
need  and  demand  the  best  for  their  comfort  and  luxury. 

Nor  should  it  be  thought  that  the  automobile  road  above 
referred  to  is  the  only  road  in  the  Park.  There  are  others, 
though  they  are  rough  mountain  roads,  or  horseback  trails. 
Another  great  advantage  of  this  Park  is  that  permanent 
camps  are  established  within  an  easy  walking  day's  distance 
of  each  other,  so  that  those  who  want  to  see  the  Park's  won- 
ders in  their  fullness,  and  yet  must  be  economical,  can  do  so. 
The  camps  are  from  eight  to  sixteen  miles  apart,  guides  are 
not  necessary,  and  one's  expenses,  if  he  provide  his  own  out- 
fit, need  not  be  over  one  dollar  per  day,  though  if  he  sleep  at 
the  chalet  camps,  the  cost  will  be  from  $3.25  to  $3.50  per  day. 

Perhaps  it  is  well  that  I  should  enlarge  somewhat  upon  this 
popular  feature  of  touring  Glacier  National  Park.  From 
reference  to  the  folders  of  the  Great  Northern  Railway 
(which  may  be  had  free  on  application  to  the  Advertising  De- 
partment, St.  Paul,  Minn.),  it  will  be  seen  that  it  plans,  not 
only  automobile,  wagon,  and  horseback  trips  for  its  patrons, 
but  makes  especial  mention  of  walking  and  camping  tours. 

There  are  regular  automobile  stages  between  Glacier  Park 
Station  and  Many-Glacier  Hotel,  and  Two  Medicine  Camp, 


216  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

and  a  stage  service  between  Belton  Station  and  the  foot  of 
Lake  McDonald.  This  latter  connects  with  launches  for  all 
points  on  the  lake.  Regular  launches  are  also  operated  on 
Upper  St.  Mary  Lake. 

Sportsmen  contend  that  this  Park  is  the  greatest  game 
preserve  on  the  American  continent.  An  elk  was  killed 
two  years  ago  whose  horns  had  a  spread  of  fifty-six  inches, 
and  five  years  ago  Chief  White  Calf,  of  the  Piegan  Indians, 
killed  two  grizzly  bears,  their  skins  being  larger  than  any 
from  the  biggest  buffalo  of  which  hunters  have  any  record. 
Frank  Higgins,  the  pioneer  mountain  hunter  of  the  region, 
says  he  believes  it  is  the  greatest  elk  range  on  the  continent. 
Here  are  also  to  be  found  mountain  goats,  big-horn  sheep, 
moose,  lions,  grizzly,  brown  and  black  bear,  deer,  antelope, 
and  an  almost  endless  variety  of  the  smaller  game.  In  1912 
hundreds  of  deer  appeared  in  the  valleys  along  the  western 
slope  of  the  Continental  Divide,  just  outside  the  Park  breed- 
ing grounds,  evidently  lured  there  by  the  extra  good  feed, 
and  having  been  trained  to  feel  secure  owing  to  the  game 
preservation  so  rigidly  observed  in  the  Park's  domain. 

Trout  fishermen  also  say  that  it  is  an  incomparable  region 
for  their  sport,  equal  to  the  Tahoe  country,  which  is  like 
saying  it  is  well-nigh  perfect. 

The  varieties  are  the  small  flat  trout,  the  cutthroat,  Dolly 
Varden  and  rainbow  trout,  varying  in  size  from  half  a 
pound  to  the  large  Bull  and  Mackinac  trout  weighing  up  to 
twenty  pounds.  Of  these  the  gamest  fighter  is  the  cut- 
throat, so  called  from  the  two  streaks  of  red  running  parallel 
beneath  its  gills,  which  inhabits  most  of  the  streams  and 
many  of  the  lakes.  Bull  trout  are  found  mostly  in  St.  Mary 
Lake.  They  can  be  depended  upon  to  put  up  a  hard  fight. 


Copyright.  Kiser  Photo  Co. 

MOUNT  JACKSON 

GLACIER  NATIONAL  PARK,  MONTANA 


THE  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  217 

All  persons  desiring  to  fish  the  waters  of  Glacier  National 
Park  must  obtain  fishing  license  under  the  laws  of  the 
State  of  Montana.  Fees  for  these  licenses  are :  Residents 
of  state  $1.00,  non-residents  $2.00. 

A  very  interesting  and  finely  illustrated  forty  page  book- 
let entitled  "  Where  the  Fighting  Trout  Leap  High,"  telling 
of  these  fish,  will  be  sent  on  application  to  the  Great  North- 
ern official  before  referred  to. 

Those,  too,  who  enjoy  meeting  Indians  will  here  find 
abundance  of  them.  Less  corrupted  by  contact  with  whites 
than  many  of  the  more  southerly  tribes,  the  Piegans  or 
Black  feet  have  preserved  their  original  independence  and 
many  of  their  aboriginal  customs.  Yet,  since  the  advent 
of  the  automobile,  they  have  hastened  to  clasp  hands  with 
the  white  tourists,  greeting  them  with  smiles  and  friendli- 
ness, welcoming  them  to  their  campfires,  and  even  acting  as 
guides.  One  of  the  great  pleasures  of  such  a  trip  as  one 
may  take  in  the  Glacier  National  Park  is  to  engage  an  intel- 
ligent Indian,  let  him  guide  you  over  glaciers,  and  mountain 
trails,  escort  you  to  secret  places  with  which  he  is  familiar 
in  forest  and  canyon,  show  you  where  the  best  game  is  to 
be  found,  and  where  the  finest  trout  lurk,  and  then,  partic- 
ularly, at  night  time,  around  the  campfire,  when  your 
blankets  have  been  unrolled  and  a  rock  is  heating  to  keep 
your  feet  warm  during  the  night,  get  him  to  tell  you  some 
of  the  Stories  of  the  Old.  There  is  not  a  lake,  a  glacier,  a 
peak,  even  a  prominent  cliff  or  rocky  feature  of  any  kind, 
that  does  not  have  a  legend  connected  with  it,  and  these 
legends  are  often  full  of  vivid  and  brilliant  imagination. 
For  instance,  Katherine  Louise  Smith  thus  tells  "  Why  Two 
Medicine  Lake  received  its  name." 


218  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

As  the  story  goes,  there  was  a  famine  in  the  land.  Even  the 
buffalo  had  left,  and  there  was  nothing  to  eat  but  berries.  The 
Blackfeet  are  plains  Indians,  and  this  loss  of  game  meant  to 
them  virtual  starvation.  So  the  wise  men  of  the  tribe  came 
up  into  the  mountains  and  built  two  medicine  lodges  on  the 
shores  of  this  lake  to  worship  the  Great  Spirit  and  pray  that 
they  might  be  relieved  from  the  famine.  When  the  Great  Spirit 
heard  them,  he  directed  that  some  of  their  oldest  men  should 
go  to  Chief  Mountain,  where  the  Wind  God  held  sway.  The 
old  men  were  afraid  to  approach  the  Wind  God,  and  so  the 
Great  Spirit  directed  that  the  medicine  men  send  their  young- 
est and  bravest  warriors.  These  young  men,  when  they  reached 
Chief  Mountain  and  saw  the  Wind  God,  were  also  afraid ;  but 
they  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  him  and  finally  dared  to  touch 
the  skins  he  was  wearing.  They  made  their  prayer,  and  he 
listened.  Stretching  one  wing  far  over  the  plains,  he  told  them 
in  this  way  to  go  back  there  and  they  would  find  the  buffalo. 
The  warriors  descended  to  the  valley  and  brought  the  good 
news  to  their  people.  They  found  that  the  buffalo  had  already 
come  back  and  that  their  famine  was  broken.* 

The  largest  and  most  wonderful  glacier  in  the  Park  is  the 
Blackfoot  Glacier,  one  of  the  largest,  if  not  the  largest,  in 
the  United  States.  It  is  three  square  miles  in  extent  and 
is  at  an  altitude  of  7,000  feet.  It  is  regarded  as  especially 
dangerous  near  the  upper  cascades,  and  no  one  is  allowed 
to  go  upon  it  without  competent  guides. 

On  the  other  hand,  Dr.  William  T.  Hornaday,  in  his 
interesting  little  monograph,  "  Glacier  National  Park,"  says 
of  the  Sperry  Glacier : 

It  is  so  near  to  Lake  McDonald  that  a  child  of  sixteen  can 
attain  it ;  but  the  fat  man  or  the  timid  lady  surely  needs  a  rope 
to  give  confidence  up  a  certain  thirty  feet  of  rock  wal'  that 
cannot  be  ignored. 

The  Sperry  is  not  by  any  means  a  big  glacier;  but  it  is  big 

*"Glacier  National  Park,"  The  Outlook,  Oct.  28,  1914. 


ICEBERG  LAKE,  GLACIER  NATIONAL  PARK 


LAKE  McDERMOTT,  AN  ARTIST'S  PARADISE 


THE  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  219 

enough  to  have  given  thrills  to  a  great  many  appreciative  tour- 
ists out  for  their  first  offense. 

I  know  of  no  one  spot  in  the  new  wonderland  park  where 
the  tourist  can  get  so  much  for  so  little  as  in  the  Sperry  Glacier 
region.  On  that  short  jaunt  from  Lake  McDonald  you  can  get 
a  mighty  good  series  of  samples  of  Glacier  Park.  There  is  the 
lovely  green  timber,  the  Sperry  Basin,  the  view  of  Gunsight 
region,  Lake  Ellen  Wilson,  the  glacier  itself,  and  Avalanche 
Basin,  into  which  the  glacier's  water  falls.  You  can  climb 
down  directly  from  the  glacier  to  Avalanche  Basin ;  but  it  is  a 
dangerous  and  difficult  task,  and  good  guides  advise  against  it. 
It  is  best  to  take  horses  at  the  Glacier  Hotel  and  ride  to  the 
basin ;  but  on  a  dripping  day  you  want  all  the  waterproofs  there 
are  in  the  whole  world.* 

And  of  the  lakes  he  says: 

Take  them  all  in  all,  coming  or  going,  I  think  the  lakes  fur- 
nish the  greatest  charm  of  Glacier  Park.  The  mountains  and 
peaks  are  the  monuments  of  the  ages,  the  glaciers  are  the  nat- 
ural curiosities,  the  woods  are  the  green  textile  embroidery; 
but  the  lakes  are  the  jewels  that  have  been  set  by  the  hand  of 
God  himself.  Show  me  the  man  who  is  insensible  to  their 
charms,  and  I  will  show  you  a  Hopeless  Case. 

Seen  close  at  hand,  the  big  ones,  like  McDonald,  are  deeply, 
darkly,  beautifully  blue,  bordered  by  limpid  green.  Seen  from 
aloft,  the  small  lakes,  Gunsight  and  Ellen  Wilson,  embosomed 
in  the  high  ranges,  are  like  polished  emeralds  —  clear,  green, 
and  surpassingly  lovely.  A  lake  like  Ellen  Wilson,  as  seen 
from  Lincoln  Peak  on  a  still  and  clear  afternoon,  is  enough  to 
make  a  lump  rise  in  the  throat  of  a  marble  Buddha.  There  are 
a  few  things  in  scenery  that  cannot  be  described,  and  to  my 
mind,  a  high  mountain  lakelet  is  one.  The  clearness  of  the 
water  along  the  rocky  shores  appeals  to  me.  In  the  Corcoran 
Art  Gallery  you  can  find  this  charming  feature  beautifully  de- 
picted in  Bierstadt's  painting  of  Mount  Corcoran. 

The  lakes  of  Glacier  Park  reveal  two  distinct  types.  The 
first  is  the  large,  deep,  sea-going  lake,  like  McDonald,  from  250 
to  300  feet  deep,  occupying  a  large  basin,  and  affording  much 

*  The  Mentor,  June  I,  1914,  the  Mentor  Association,  N.  Y. 


220  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

entertainment.  The  other  is  the  jewel  type,  like  Lakes  Ellen 
Wilson  and  Gunsight,  too  small  to  navigate  and  too  large  to 
be  carried  away,  and  mounted  in  gold,  as  jewelry.* 

Miss  Katharine  L.  Smith  has  this  to  say  of  the  lakes: 

A  few  of  these  lakes  are  circular  in  form,  but  the  typical 
lake  of  this  region  is  long  and  narrow.  The  settings  of  almost 
all  are  sublime.  Giant  pines  fringe  their  edges,  and  bleak  and 
bare  mountains  rise  precipitously  from  their  shores.  One  lake, 
known  as  Iceberg  Lake,  which  can  be  reached  from  Many- 
Glacier  Camp,  is  the  only  lake  of  its  kind  to  be  found  on  the 
continent  of  North  America.  At  one  end  is  a  small  glacier, 
and  during  the  warm  days  of  summer  this  mass  of  ice  moves 
out  over  the  edge  of  the  solid  wall  that  holds  it,  and  great 
chunks  as  big  as  the  Flatiron  Building  in  New  York  City  go 
plunging  down  into  the  water.  The  elevation  at  this  point  is 
so  high  that  the  lake  never  becomes  warm  enough  to  melt  the 
ice  entirely.  There  are  always  several  huge  icebergs  floating 
on  its  surface.  Iceberg  Lake  was  thought  by  the  Indians  to 
be  the  home  of  lost  souls  and  troubled  spirits.  Avalanche 
Lake,  in  Avalanche  Basin,  at  the  head  of  Lake  McDonald,  is 
another  beauty  that  is  well  worth  a  day's  jaunt  to  reach.  It  is 
the  favorite  with  persons  unaccustomed  to  horseback,  for  the 
trail  is  an  easy  one  through  pine  forests  until,  as  the  rider  sud- 
denly emerges  at  what  seems  a  hole  in  the  Rockies,  the  lake 
bursts  upon  the  traveler's  vision,  a  gem  often  seen  through  a 
halo  of  purple  mist.  This  lake  is  two  miles  long,  with  a  border 
of  green.  Its  chief  charms  are  four  waterfalls  tumbling  down 
from  the  surrounding  hill.  In  the  distance  these  great  falls 
seem  like  ribbons  flung  from  the  trap,  to  end  in  milky  foam 
below.f 

In  addition  to  material  issued  by  the  Great  Northern 
Railway,  the  Superintendent  of  National  Parks,  Monadnock 
Building,  San  Francisco,  Calif.,  will  send  to  applicants  the 
government's  pamphlet  on  Glacier  National  Park.  This  is  a 
compendium  of  information  which  all  should  obtain  before 
making  the  trip. 

*  The  Mentor,  June  I,  1914.          t  The  Outlook,  vol.  108,  p.  483,  1914. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


TIME  was  when  even  the  scientists  said  there  were  no 
glaciers  within  the  boundaries  of  the  United  States. 
Then  John  Muir,  discovered  true  glaciers  in  the  Sierras, 
after  months  of  careful  and  scientific  investigation,  and 
soon  it  was  known  that  there  were  many  "  snow  banks  "  in 
our  mountains,  all  of  which  possessed  the  characteristics 
of  true  glaciers. 

Around  Mt.  Rainier  —  alas!  that  the  glorious  Tahoma, 
"  the  Mountain  that  was  God,"  as  the  Indians  term  it,  should 
be  known  by  the  name  of  an  English  naval  officer,  instead 
of  by  its  own  perfect  name  —  there  are  many  glaciers,  and 
in  conformity  with  the  growing  custom  of  setting  aside  as 
National  Parks  those  scenic  attractions  that,  forever,  should 
belong  to  the  people,  the  Mount  Rainier  National  Park  was 
so  set  apart  in  March,  1899.  It  comprises  207,360  acres 
and  includes  the  whole  mountain  and  its  wonderful  radia- 
ting system  of  glaciers,  one  of  the  largest,  belonging  to  a 
single  peak,  in  the  known  world. 

To  visit  glaciers  in  an  automobile  seems  to  be  an  impossi- 
bility, yet,  nowadays,  it  is  the  impossible  that  people 
demand.  Therefore  Nature  even  seems  to  yield,  and  at 
Rainier  one  rides  in  an  automobile  over  a  well-constructed 
government  road  right  to  the  very  nose,  or  "  snout "  of  the 
Nisqually  Glacier.  Rainier  park,  with  its  glaciers,  must  not 

221 


222  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

be  confused  with  Glacier  National  Park,  in  Montana,  to 
which  another  chapter  is  devoted. 

Rainier  National  Park  is  a  nearly  perfect  square,  each 
side  of  which  is  eighteen  miles  long,  and  it  is  completely 
surrounded  by  the  Rainier  National  Forest.  It  may  be 
reached  either  by  rail  or  automobile  from  Tacoma  or 
Seattle,  the  rail  route,  however,  terminating  at  Ash  ford, 
thirteen  miles  from  Longmire  Springs.  This  gap  is  cov- 
ered by  the  auto  stage  line.  This  is  the  entrance  to  the 
southern  portion  of  the  park.  On  the  north  access  is  gained 
by  the  Northern  Pacific  to  Fairfax,  where  there  are  no 
hotels,  and  camping  out  is  the  only  method  of  travel.  To 
those  who  enjoy  rough  and  ready  western  life  their  trip 
to  the  summit  of  the  mountain  from  this  entrance  is  most 
enjoyable. 

Even  those  who  wish  to  travel  no  further  than  the  auto- 
mobile will  take  them  will  still  find  much  pleasure  in  a  visit 
to  the  Nisqually  Glacier.  The  ride  is  over  an  excellent  road, 
the  first  twenty-eight  miles  of  which,  from  Tacoma,  is  at 
the  base  of  huge  timbered  bluffs,  which  rise  sheer  from  the 
prairie  level,  or  through  timbered  spaces  where  the  trees 
are  mirrored  in  the  crystal  waters  of  many  lakes.  When 
the  top  of  King  Hill  is  reached,  overlooking  Ohop  Valley, 
a  glorious  view  is  to  be  obtained  on  a  clear  day.  The 
majestic  mountain  dome,  clad  in  its  robe  of  pristine  purity, 
dominates  the  landscape,  with  its  assemblage  of  sister  peaks 
doing  it  homage.  By  skilful  engineering  the  road  strikes 
Nisqually  Canyon  at  its  very  tip,  and  here  one  gazes  down 
into  the  1,000  feet  deep  abyss  at  the  bottom  of  which  the 
Nisqually  River  winds  its  roaring  way  to  the  sea. 

In  this  canyon  we  see  the  Tacoma  electric  plant,  con- 


RAINIER  NATIONAL  PARK  223 

structed  at  an  expense  of  $2,500,000.  For  quite  a  distance 
the  road  hovers  close  over  the  canyon's  depths,  then,  sud- 
denly, it  plunges  into  the  great  fir  forest,  and  an  entirely 
new  series  of  effects  are  produced.  But  the  ascent  is  ever 
gradually  maintained  until  the  log  gateway  of  the  Park  is 
reached.  Still  on  and  on  through  dense  timber  which 
grows  taller  and  taller  as  we  proceed.  These  are  fir  and 
hemlock,  cedar  and  tamarack,  spruce  and  pine,  maple  and 
cotton  wood,  alder  and  sycamore,  until  even  the  dust  of  the 
road  takes  on  a  greenish  tinge.  At  Longmire  Springs  there 
are  two  hotels,  one  for  the  luxurious,  the  other  for  those 
who  do  not  mind  the  simplicities  and  economies. 

The  mountain  road  really  begins  here.  For  five  and  one- 
half  miles  it  switches  and  crooks,  turns  and  twists,  making 
all  kinds  of  curving  and  doubling  figures,  but  ascending 
constantly,  and  revealing  pictures  of  sublimity,  glory,  and 
enchantment  until,  at  last,  on  a  bridge,  we  stand  and  con- 
template the  great  wall  of  ice  of  the  Nisqually  Glacier,  less 
than  a  thousand  feet  away,  and  our  automobile  journey 
is  at  an  end.  From  this  point  we  go  higher  by  wagon,  on 
horseback,  on  foot,  amid  real  Alpine  glories.  Trails  have 
been  constructed  in  every  direction  to  make  the  glaciers  and 
other  delights  of  the  park  more  easily  accessible.  There 
are  the  Nisqually,  Cowlitz,  Ingraham,  Ohanapecosh,  Fry- 
ing-pan, Emmons,  Winthrop,  Carbon,  Russell,  the  two 
Mowich,  Edmunds,  Puyallup,  Tahoma,  Pyramid,  Kautz, 
Van  Trump,  and  Wilson  Glaciers.  Here  one  may  revel  for 
days  in  the  marvelous  scenery  of  glaciers  —  crevasses,  ice- 
bridges,  glacial  fountains,  hidden  rivers,  and  the  play  of 
sunbeam  and  moonbeam  upon,  in,  and  through  the  crys- 
tal ice. 


224  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

But  the  chief  delight  of  the  trip  to  the  adventurous  is 
the  ascent  of  the  mountain.  This  is  generally  made  from 
Reese's  Camp  in  Paradise  Valley,  5,500  feet  elevation, 
where  guides  and  proper  equipment  may  be  obtained.  From 
this  point  the  mountain  seems  built  of  snow  and  ice,  as 
though  it  were  a  vast  pyramid  broken  through  by  jagged 
ridges  of  black  rock.  A  field  glass  reveals  that  these  blocks 
of  basalt  and  granite  are  beetling  crags,  towering  pinnacles 
and  dizzy  precipices,  but  there  being  nothing  to  compare 
them  with,  their  grandeur  is  not  readily  perceptible. 

From  Puget  Sound,  Mount  Rainier  is  a  thing  of  inestimable 
beauty,  calm,  serene,  beautiful,  a  white-robed  spirit.  There  he 
is,  close  to  us,  towering  over  us,  a  thing  of  awesome  majesty. 
*  *  *  We  cannot  watch  him  long  and  preserve  our  buoyant 
feeling.  He  calls,  but  at  the  same  moment  he  overwhelms. 

Below  us  is  Paradise  Valley,  the  valley  of  flowers  we  trod 
a  little  while  before  —  the  crimson  and  the  orange,  red,  blue, 
violet,  and  white  swaying  gently,  with  here  and  there  a  clump 
of  firs.  Across  from  us  a  great  stone  ridge,  dark,  perpendic- 
ular, and  foaming  from  its  dizzy  heights,  are  two  waterfalls 
that  become  rivers  in  the  valley  below.  Then  we  follow  the 
azure  sky  line  and  the  Tatoosh  Range  looms  rugged,  too  rugged 
for  the  snow  to  cling,  save  in  patches.  As  far  as  the  eye  can 
reach  the  bold  pinnacles  stand  out,  and  we  realize  that  beyond 
these  stand  ridge  after  ridge.  * 

Having  passed  the  scrutiny  of  the  guide,  a  start  is  made 
for  the  summit.  The  Beehive  is  passed,  the  Cowlitz  Glacier 
crossed,  Camp  Muir  is  reached,  and  then  comes  Gibraltar. 
Here  let  Mr.  McCully  tell  the  story  of  his  trip  on  to  the 
last  triumphant  view  from  the  summit : 

Ahead  is  Gibraltar,  beetling,  stern,  forbidding,  the  cause  of 
our  early  start,  for  at  midday  he  stands  impassable.  This  one 
great  wall  of  rock  has  sent  down  avalanche  upon  avalanche. 

*A.  Woodruff  McCully,  in  Overland  Monthly,  June,  1910. 


t 


RAINIER  NATIONAL  PARK  225 

Barely  a  day  goes  by  that  a  tumbling  sweep  of  rock  does  not 
break  from  his  face.  By  noon  the  sun's  rays  on  the  melting 
snows  have  served  to  dislodge  stones  enough  to  start  the  aval- 
anches. Our  guide  watches  the  sky  carefully,  the  face  of  the 
overhanging  cliff,  the  narrow  way  ahead,  and  then  looks  us 
over  anxiously.  His  word  is  law  here,  and  we  tremble,  for  not 
one  of  us  would  stay  behind. 

The  wind  almost  sweeps  us  from  our  feet.  We  hardly  dare 
to  hug  the  wall  above  for  fear  of  starting  some  loose  rock, 
and  below  us  falls  another  sheer  precipice.  Yet  even  here  the 
way  seems  natural,  and  our  ropes  almost  a  nuisance.  Gibraltar 
once  rounded,  we  pause  for  breath.  Our  battle  is  almost  won. 
The  wind  bends  us ;  we  cannot  stand  upright,  but  we  are  ready 
to  push  on.  Over  snow  and  ice,  rounding  a  bare  pinnacle, 
climbing,  slipping,  catching  a  breath,  we  stagger  on,  nearer, 
nearer,  until  —  we  are  there!  Columbia  Crest! 

The  gale  blows  us.  It  is  twenty  degrees  below  zero.  The 
steaming  rocks  of  the  crater  beckon.  We  climb  down  to  them 
and  stretch  out,  and  while  we  shift  uneasily  on  their  hot  sur- 
faces, the  steam  from  our  damp  clothing  freezes  and  forms  a 
thin  coat  of  ice  wherever  the  rocks  do  not  touch.  It  is  not  an 
exactly  comfortable  spot.  We  clamber  down  and  seek  the  ice 
caves.  There  the  wind  is  kept  from  us,  and  we  find  compara- 
tive warmth  in  the  great  caverns  that  seem  to  stretch  on  and  on. 
A  crevice  here  and  another  there  keep  us  back  from  explora- 
tion. The  light  seems  strange  in  our  eyes.  We  munch  our 
chocolate,  and  we  feel  that  nowhere  is  there  rest  for  us. 
Then  we  climb  back  again  to  Columbia  Crest,  and  brace  our- 
selves to  look  out  over  the  world.  The  sun  shines  down  on 
us  distantly.  Far  down  below  we  see  the  mists  clinging  to  the 
Camp  of  the  Clouds. 

But  upon  all  sides  of  us,  stretching  mile  upon  mile,  lay 
mountains,  peaks,  ridges,  ranges;  lofty  heights  and  deep 
abysses.  There  are  snow-crowned  summits  and  again  whole 
ridges  enshrouded  in  the  blue  mist  of  fairyland.  Jagged  peaks 
against  the  azure  sky,  bold  rocks  and  pinnacles  thousands  of 
feet  in  height  and  the  gentler  snow-white  Adams,  Baker,  Hood, 
St.  Helens,  on  and  on  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach.  And  then 
over  these  ridges  of  the  Cascade  Mountains  we  look  sixty  miles 


226  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

away  to  Puget  Sound  with  its  winding  sapphire  channels  and 
bluffs.  We  see  Seattle,  Tacoma,  Olympia,  Bellingham  and  all 
the  minor  ambitious  little  towns  in  between  —  strange  little 
blots.  We  look  to  the  prairies  of  the  east,  and  then  swinging 
back  and  looking  once  more  toward  our  beloved  Puget  Sound, 
we  see  the  mighty  Olympics,  snow-crowned,  bold,  yet  more 
rugged  than  the  Tatoosh  and  the  Sawtooth;  Mount  Olympus, 
majestic,  stately,  unapproachable,  the  Brothers,  on  and  on, 
peak  after  peak,  and  through  the  glasses  on  beyond,  dimly, 
faintly,  but  still  there,  the  sweep  of  the  great  Pacific.  Moun- 
tains and  valleys  and  cities  and  lakes  with  an  ocean  thrown  in 
for  good  measure.  All  these  lay  below  the  peak  beyond 
Paradise  Valley.* 

That  women  may  make  this  ascent  is  proven  by  such 
facts  as  that  in  July,  1910,  a  party  of  the  Mountaineers' 
Association  of  Washington,  sixty-two  in  number,  with  as 
many  women  as  men,  made  the  climb.  They  camped  at  the 
end  of  the  first  day  above  the  9,000  foot  level,  within  sight 
of  the  dome,  Columbia  Crest,  the  summit  of  the  mountain, 
14,408  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  The  following  day 
they  made  the  over-five-thousand  feet  ascent  shortly  after 
noon,  spent  an  hour  on  the  summit,  returned  to  the  9,000 
foot  camp  for  the  night,  and  descended  to  the  valley  the 
following  day,  proud  of  their  record. 

The  United  States  Department  of  the  Interior  issues  each 
year  a  detailed  circular  on  Mount  Rainier  National  Park,  giv- 
ing full  particulars  as  to  hotels,  routes,  charges,  preparation 
for  climbing,  clothes,  food,  costs,  etc.,  a  copy  of  which  will  be 
sent  free  of  charge  to  any  one  on  application.  A  most  excel- 
lent and  beautiful  book  dealing  with  the  mountain  is  entitled 
The  Mountain  That  Was  God,  by  J.  H.  Williams,  of  San 
Francisco,  Calif.,  which  can  be  obtained  from  any  bookseller. 

*A.  Woodruff  McCully,  in  Overland  Monthly,  June,  1910. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

CRATER  LAKE,  OREGON 

IMAGINE  climbing  a  mountain  range,  overlooking  the 
northern  portion  of  the  Sun  Down  Sea,  whose  general 
average  height  is  as  high  as  Mt.  Washington  —  the  highest 
peak,  East,  North,  or  South  in  the  United  States  from  the 
Atlantic  Ocean  to  the  Rockies  in  Colorado  —  and  with 
isolated  peaks  1,000,  2,000  and  nearly  3,000  feet  higher  yet. 
This  is  the  Cascade  Range  in  Oregon.  Each  of  these  peaks 
is  an  extinct  volcano,  and  was  once  active.  The  fragments 
blown  out  from  them  by  violent  eruptions  are  scattered  all 
about  their  original  orifices  and  have  thus  built  up  great 
cinder  cones,  while  from  their  bases  have  spread  streams  of 
lava  —  vast  rocky  blankets  of  varying  thickness  —  which 
have  raised  the  general  level  of  the  country  up  which  we 
climb.  Higher  and  higher  we  ascend  until  we  reach  the 
summit  of  the  range,  say  between  6,000  and  7,000  feet,  or 
the  height  of  Mt.  Washington,  the  crowning  summit  of  the 
Presidential  Range  in  New  Hampshire. 

There  are  several  peaks,  however,  that  still  tower  above 
us.  To  the  southwest,  about  eight  miles  away,  is  Union 
Peak  (7,881  feet).  Fifty  miles  south  we  can  see  clearly 
the  summits  of  the  Siskiyous,  which  denote  the  boundary 
line  between  Oregon  and  California.  To  the  north  is  Mt. 
Thielson  (9,250  feet),  not  inappropriately  called  the  Mat- 
terhorn  of  the  Cascade  Range  —  clearly  it  is  volcanic,  for 

227 


228  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

we  can  see  the  bright  colored  red,  yellow,  and  brown  of  the 
burnt  tuffs,  interbedded  with  thin  sheets  of  lava,  the  whole 
cut  by  an  interesting  network  of  dikes,  radiating  from  the 
center  of  the  old  volcano.  There  is  a  peak  immediately 
before  us,  and  it  is  an  important  one;  being  a  little  higher 
than  Union  Peak,  but  not  quite  so  high  as  Mt.  Thielson.  Up 
its  lava  and  cinder-strewn  slopes  we  climb,  eager  to  look 
down  into  the  empty  and  cold  mouth  and  throat  of  what 
were  once  fiery  furnaces,  belching  forth  flame  and  molten 
rock  in  devastating  floods.  On  its  sides  great  blankets  of 
half  frozen  snow  now  lie,  and  from  these  banks  numberless 
tiny  streams  trickle,  uniting  further  down,  and  sending 
floods  to  make  the  life-giving  Rogue  River,  the  Klamath. 
and  the  Umpqua. 

Suddenly  the  remnant  of  the  rim  of  the  old  crater  is 
reached,  and  we  prepare  to  gaze  down  into  its  awfully  pro- 
found depths,  when,  to  our  absolute  amazement  and  startled 
surprise  —  great  as  that  of  Balboa  on  Darien  —  we  find 
ourselves  looking  into  a  crystal  clear  lake,  half  filling  the 
vast  cauldron,  which  careful  measurements  show  to  be  fully 
4,000  feet  deep,  and  five  and  a  half  miles  in  diameter. 
There  we  stand,  at  8,000  feet  elevation ;  so,  in  round  num- 
bers, the  lake's  level  is  at  6,000  feet  above  the  sea. 

Such  is  the  world-famed  Crater  Lake,  of  Oregon,  called 
by  its  discoverer,  John  W.  Hillman,  on  June  12,  1853,  Deep 
Blue  Lake,  by  others  Mysterious  Lake,  Lake  Mystery,  Lake 
Majesty,  Hole  in  the  Ground,  etc.,  and  of  which  Joseph  Le 
Conte  once  exclaimed:  "Yellowstone  has  its  glories,  and 
so  have  the  Y°semite  and  Crater  Lake,  but  their  grandeur 
is  not  in  common.  You  cannot  compare  unlike  things. 
There  is  but  one  Crater  Lake." 


CRATER  LAKE,  OREGON  229 

Impressive  in  its  grandeur ;  alluring  in  its  great  surprise ; 
stimulating  in  its  mystery;  inspiring  in  its  sublime  majesty; 
satisfying  in  its  supernal  and  almost  weird  loneliness,  it 
produces  an  effect  upon  the  mind  of  the  traveled  beholder 
entirely  different  from  that  caused  by  any  other  scene.  The 
Grand  Canyon  of  Arizona  takes  away  one's  breath  and 
appalls  in  its  stupendous  vastness;  the  Yellowstone  sur- 
prises with  its  unique  hot-water  fountains  of  such  colossal 
height;  the  Yosemite  thrills  with  its  closed-in  grandeur, 
supreme  majesty,  and  supernal  loveliness;  the  Painted 
Desert  allures  by  its  mystic  coloring;  the  Big  Trees  almost 
oppress  by  their  dominating  supremacy,  but  Crater  Lake 
produces  a  little  of  all  these  feelings,  with  added  qualities 
of  surprise,  delight,  and  strangeness  —  emotions  that  are 
never  forgotten  or  erased,  no  matter  what  one  may  see  in 
after  years. 

To  comprehend  aright  the  marvelous  changes  that  Nature 
has  accomplished  in  the  centuries  ere  she  produced  this 
unique  Wonderland,  let  me  ask  the  reader  to  recall  the  sub- 
lime majesty  of  Mt.  Shasta  —  the  Fuji-Yama  of  Northern 
California.  This  glorious  pile  is  one  of  the  dominating 
peaks  of  the  continent,  14,380  feet  above  sea-level,  rising 
with  a  majestic  sweep  of  11,000  feet  from  the  gentle  slopes 
about  its  base,  gradually  growing  steeper  upward  to  the 
bold  peak.  Its  solitariness,  its  isolation  from  other  peaks  is 
one  of  its  chief  glories.  Nothing  dwarfs  it,  or  injures  it  by 
comparison.  Like  a  lone  tree  in  a  desert  landscape,  or 
Milan  Cathedral,  or  St.  Paul's,  towering  above  the  pigmy 
houses  that  surround  them,  it  dominates  every  unoccupied 
thought,  focalizes  every  undirected  gaze.  In  this  it  differs 
materially  from  the  mountain  which  once  stood  where  Cra- 


230  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

ter  Lake  now  reposes  in  snug  seclusion.  For  Mt.  Mazama 
—  the  name  given  to  this  lost,  this  vanished  giant  of  the 
Cascades  —  rose  in  the  majestic,  sublime,  and  awe-inspiring 
company  of  other  peaks,  from  the  general  6,000- foot  level 
of  the  range. 

Yet,  originally,  it  must  have  towered  as  high  as  Shasta, 
i«4,ooo  to  15,000  feet  above  sea  level.  On  its  slopes  vast 
glaciers  once  formed  and  slowly  carved  the  canyons  of 
Sun  and  Sand  Creeks,  leaving  their  marks  of  deep  glaciation 
easily  to  be  read  by  the  observant  and  studious.  After  these 
glaciers  were  formed  and  had  begun  their  mountain  sculp- 
turing processes,  the  uneasy  and  fiery  bowels  of  the  earth 
again  belched  forth  their  molten  and  sulphurous  flames, 
clouds  of  smoke  and  ashes,  and  torrents  of  lava,  thus  com- 
pletely changing  the  spirit  of  the  scene.  Again,  after  a 
while,  the  Frost  King  reigned  supreme  and  snow,  neve,  ice, 
glaciers  ploughed  down  the  lavas,  cinders,  conglomerates, 
and  carried  them  to  make  soil  for  the  valley  below.  How 
many  times  these  antipodal  experiences  occurred  I  do  not 
know,  but  unquestionably  several  times.  How  fascinatingly 
absorbing  to  have  been  able,  with  actual  vision,  to  see  such 
wonderful  changes!  Now  clad  in  Arctic  ice  —  then  in  fiery 
floods  shot  forth  from  hottest  hell. 

But  these  alternations  were  doomed  finally  to  cease.  A 
tremendous,  gigantic,  almost  inconceivable  change  took 
place.  The  upper  six  to  eight  thousand  feet  of  this  vast  cone 
disappeared. 

Where  and  how? 

The  scientists  tell  us  —  and  we  listen  because  we  have  no 
better  opinions  than  theirs  —  that  there  are  two  ways  only 
in  which  this  could  have  occurred.  It  was  either  bv  a  sub- 


CRATER  LAKE,  OREGON  231 

sidence,  which  swallowed  it  up  and  digested  it  for  further 
mountain  building  or  world-crust-making  elsewhere,  or  else 
there  was  a  great  explosion  that  shook  the  roof,  as  well  as 
the  roots,  of  the  world  and  blew  the  whole  head  of  the 
mountain  away.  In  this  latter  case  pumice  and  volcanic 
ashes  would  strew  the  country  round  about  to  great  depths. 
This  evidence  is  found.  Yet  something  more  important, 
impressive,  and  lasting  would  also  have  occurred.  The 
upper  walls  of  the  crater  would  have  fallen  adown  its  slopes 
and  left  their  crumbling  mass  as  a  silent  testimony  to  the 
ruin  their  fall  had  occasioned.  As  a  hundred- feet-high  wall 
leaves  a  crumbling  mass  after  it  has  tottered  and  fallen,  so 
a  great  pile  of  basaltic  blocks,  wrecked  and  shattered,  1,000 
or  more  feet  high,  should  have  been  found  at  the  base  of 
Mt.  Mazama.  No  such  pile,  however,  is  found. 

So,  though  the  evidences  are  not  actually  all  in  sight,  the 
consensus  of  scientific  deduction  is  that  Mt.  Mazama's  crown 
was  blown  up  and  then  fell  into  the  boiling,  bubbling,  and 
seething  crater  and  was  re-fused  and  reabsorbed  into  the 
molten  mass  beneath.  In  support  of  this  theory  they  point 
to  a  peculiar  condition  that  is  clearly  seen  to  have  existed  at 
Rugged  Crest,  a  point  on  the  outer  rim,  between  Round  Top 
and  Cleetwood  Cove.  Here  the  lava  rose  and  flowed  out  of 
the  crater,  but  before  the  central  portion  of  the  flow,  where 
the  mass  was  thickest,  had  congealed  or  solidified,  the  inner 
portion  of  the  surrounding  cone  sank  away,  fell  into  the 
fiery  gulf,  and  this  yet  soft  mass  began  to  flow  back  into  the 
crater.  But  the  outer  crust  of  the  mass  still  remained  as  an 
empty  shell,  and  in  due  time  it  fell  in  and  thus  formed  the 
wild,  chaotic  valley  of  tumbled  fragments,  columns,  and 
bluffs  that  Rugged  Crest  now  presents. 


232  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

It  is  assumed  that  the  volcanic  cone  of  Mt.  Mazama  was 
raised  higher  and  higher  by  the  solidification  of  some  of  the 
outpouring  lava  at  each  successive  flow,  until  it  gained  its 
maximum  height.  Then  the  column  of  molten  material 
within  arose,  bubbling,  seething,  smoking,  and  bursting, 
until  it  was  fully  8,000  feet  above  the  base  of  the  Cascade 
Range.  Imagine  so  vast  a  mass  of  fiery  liquid  and  its  tre- 
mendous weight.  The  heat  and  weight  combined,  doubtless 
aided  by  other  forces,  compelled  an  opening  far,  far  down 
on  the  mountain  slope,  through  which  the  lava  escaped. 
This  left  the  weight  of  the  cone  unsupported,  save  by  the 
thin  shell  of  the  mountain,  which  in  due  time  collapsed, 
leaving  it  somewhat  in  the  condition  in  which  it  is  found 
today.  The  geologists,  however,  have  not  yet  been  able  to 
find  the  escaped  lava,  and  the  search  for  it  is  still  being  car- 
ried on  by  those  who  are  interested  to  know  whether  the 
above  theory  is  a  correct  one. 

Anyhow,  in  due  time  the  volcanic  fires  within  subsided, 
the  falling  snow  melted,  and  water  poured  into  the  once 
active  crater.  The  internal  fires  and  subsequent  collapse 
had  sealed  the  basin  so  that  the  entering  water  had  little 
outlet,  and  it  has  slowly  accumulated  until  now  it  is  nearly 
two  thousand  feet  deep.  Pure,  clear,  uncontaminated  in  any 
way,  it  is  of  the  richest,  deepest,  amethystine  blue,  except 
close  to  the  shore,  where  it  blends  into  a  rich  turquoise. 
When  the  visitor  rides  over  its  surface  in  a  boat  the  deep 
blue  does  not  lessen,  but  the  color  becomes  a  little  richer, 
or  brighter. 

Near  the  shore  on  the  westerly  side  is  a  circular  island, 
clearly  at  one  time  a  volcano,  845  feet  high,  known  as 
Wizard  Island.  In  the  top  of  it  is  an  extinct  crater  100  feet 


CRATER  LAKE 


WIZARD  ISLAND,  CRATER  LAKE 


CRATER  LAKE,  OREGON  233 

deep  and  500  feet  in  diameter.  On  Wizard  Island  a  small 
lake,  which  is  called  Witch's  Pool,  has  been  formed  of  seep- 
age from  Crater  Lake.  Here  we  have  the  singular  phe- 
nomena of  a  lake  within  a  lake,  and  a  perfect  volcanic  cone 
within  another  cone. 

On  the  eastern  side  is  another  island,  formed  from  the 
rim  of  the  crater  by  erosion  before  the  water  had  attained 
its  present  level  in  Crater  Lake.  It  is  a  rugged  monolith  of 
basalt,  carved  by  weathering  into  a  rude  resemblance  to  a 
ship,  and  with  pinnacles  which  suggest  masts.  Hugging  the 
eastern  shore  closely,  it  is  very  difficult  to  see  under  certain 
atmospheric  conditions,  hence  its  name,  the  Phantom  Ship. 

On  May  22,  1902,  Crater  National  Park  was  formed.  It 
includes  249  square  miles  of  the  Cascade  Mountains,  the 
chief  object  of  interest  being  Crater  Lake.  Yet  there  are 
many  other  naturally  interesting  scenic  attractions  that  the 
visitor  should  see,  such  as  the  Pinnacles  in  Sand  Creek 
Canyon,  the  Garden  of  the  Gods  at  the  head  of  Anna  Creek 
Canyon,  Dewie  Canyon,  Union  Peak,  Mt.  Scott,  etc.  The 
Federal  Government  is  building  good  roads,  trails,  etc.,  and 
the  Crater  Lake  Company,  Portland,  Oregon,  has  estab- 
lished auto  stage  lines  connecting  the  lake  with  the  nearest 
railway  stations,  Anna  Spring  Camp,  Crater  Lake  Lodge, 
store,  livery,  etc.  This  company  will  be  glad  to  send  cir- 
culars of  information  to  all  who  desire  them. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 

IN  the  sixty-four  or  more  years  that  have  elapsed  since  its 
discovery,  the  Yosemite  has  lost  none  of  its  old-time 
power  to  charm  and  enthrall.  In  spite  of  the  facts  that 
the  extension  of  railroads,  the  building  of  fine  automobile 
roads,  and  the  almost  universal  use  of  the  motor  car,  have 
made  accessible  a  thousand  or  more  hitherto  unknown  scenic 
attractions,  this  peerless  canyon  valley  still  reigns  supreme 
in  the  affections  of  those  who  know  it  best. 

John  Muir,  who  yielded  his  heart  to  its  allurements  when 
he  first  saw  it  in  1868,  after  wandering  over  the  Old  and 
New  Worlds  and  drinking  in  their  glories  with  the  trained 
eye  of  a  scientific  and  scenery-loving  observer,  still  wrote 
in  1912: 

No  temple  made  with  hands  can  compare  with  Yosemite. 
Every  rock  in  its  walls  seems  to  glow  with  life.  Some  lean 
back  in  majestic  repose ;  others,  absolutely  sheer,  or  nearly  so, 
for  thousands  of  feet,  advance  beyond  their  companions  in 
thoughtful  attitudes,  giving  welcome  to  storms  and  calms 
alike,  seemingly  aware,  yet  heedless,  of  everything  going  on 
about  them.  Awful  in  stern,  immovable  majesty,  how  softly 
these  rocks  are  adorned,  and  how  fine  and  reassuring  the  com- 
pany they  keep:  their  feet  among  beautiful  groves  and 
meadows,  their  brows  in  the  sky,  a  thousand  flowers  leaning 
confidingly  against  their  feet,  bathed  in  floods  of  water,  floods 
of  light,  while  the  snow  and  waterfalls,  the  winds  and  ava- 
lanches and  clouds  shine  and  sing  and  wreathe  about  them  as 

234 


Copyright  by  J.  T.  Boysen 

EL  CAPITAN,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 


THE  YOSEMITE  VALLEY  235 

the  years  go  by,  and  myriads  of  small  winged  creatures  —  birds, 
bees,  butterflies  —  give  glad  animation  and  help  to  make  all  the 
air  into  music.  Down  through  the  middle  of  the  Valley  flows 
the  crystal  Merced,  River  of  Mercy,  peacefully  quiet,  reflecting 
lilies  and  trees  and  the  onlooking  rocks ;  things  frail  and  fleet- 
ing and  types  of  endurance  meeting  here  and  blending  in 
countless  forms,  as  if  into  this  one  mountain-mansion  Nature 
had  gathered  her  choicest  treasures,  to  draw  her  lovers  into 
close  and  confiding  communion  with  her.  * 

It  is  in  the  words  I  have  italicized  that  Muir  states  one  of 
the  great  charms  of  Yosemite.  While  the  Park  is  extensive, 
taking  in  a  vast  area  of  many  miles,  the  Valley  itself  is  but 
about  seven  miles  long,  half  a  mile  to  a  mile  wide,  and  nearly 
a  mile  deep.  In  this  limited  area  are  found  those  distinctive 
features  which  have  set  the  Yosemite  apart  as  God-blessed 
beyond  any  similar  area  of  mountain  scenery  on  earth. 

The  approach  is  through  a  tree-lover's  paradise,  in  which 
grow  silver  firs,  Douglas  spruce,  sequoias,  yellow  and  sugar 
pines,  all  of  them  colossal  trees  "  as  wonderful  in  fineness  of 
beauty  and  proportion  as  in  stature  —  an  assemblage  of 
conifers  surpassing  all  that  have  ever  yet  been  discovered  in 
the  forests  of  the  world."  In  the  earlier  days  —  before  the 
railroad  was  built,  in  1905-7  —  the  stage  roads  ascended 
through  these  trees  to  the  "  rim  "  or  edge  of  the  Valley,  so 
that  it  was  on  the  margin  of  these  incomparable  forests  that 
one's  first  glimpse  was  obtained  —  "a  revelation  in  land- 
scape affairs  that  enriches  one's  life  forever." 

Almost  immediately  the  observant  traveler  realizes  what 
Professor  J.  D.  Whitney  once  wrote : 

The  peculiar  features  of  the  Yosemite  are :  First,  the  near 
approach  to  verticality  of  its  walls;  next,  their  great  height, 
not  only  absolutely,  but  as  compared  to  the  width  of  the  valley 

*The  Yosemite,  by  John  Muir,  The  Century  Co.,  New  York. 


236  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

itself ;  and  finally,  the  very  small  amount  of  debris  or  talus,  at 
the  bottom  of  these  gigantic  cliffs.  These  are  the  great  char- 
acteristics of  the  valley  throughout  its  whole  length  ;  but  besides 
these,  there  are  many  other  striking  peculiarities  and  features, 
both  of  sublimity  and  beauty,  which  can  hardly  be  surpassed,  if 
equaled,  by  those  of  any  other  mountain  scenery  in  the  world.* 

Let  us  take  in  to  the  full  the  first  large,  general  impres- 
sion, that  overpowering  sense  of  the  sublime,  that  led  Edwin 
Markham  to  write: 

No  man  can  stand  before  the  majesty  of  Yosemite  without 
feeling  in  some  degree  the  divine  emotion  of  sublimity,  a  sense 
of  the  unseen  mystery  of  the  world  —  without  being  stirred  by 
a  noble  reverence  for  greatness,  stirred,  perhaps,  to  noble  tears. 
.  .  .  Yosemite  is  one  of  the  sublimities  of  the  world, 
walled  in  like  the  secret  city  of  the  Lama,  pillared  more  stu- 
pendously than  Karnak,  carved  and  heaved  and  heaped  by  cos- 
mic powers  that  belittle  the  engineering  that  lifted  the  Pyramids 
into  time.f 

Now  we  are  ready  to  study  the  individualistic  features 
that  make  up  Yosemite  —  the  incomparable.  Again  let  me 
quote  from  California,  the  Wonderful: 

Now,  pushing  on  into  the  valley,  El  Capitan  and  the  Cathe- 
dral Spires  appear  on  either  hand,  propping  the  firmament  — 
colossal  cliffs  of  granite  shaped  out  of  the  oldest  substance  at 
the  core  of  the  world.  We  might  well  pause  here,  for  a  mortal 
pen  can  give  only  a  faint  sense  of  the  tranquil  rapture,  the 
turbulent  glory,  the  divine  dignity  of  Yosemite. 

Cathedral  Spires  soar  nearly  to  the  level  of  El  Capitan,  but 
their  look  is  less  unearthly.  They  recall  the  works  of  man  — 
Giotto's  unfinished  Duomo  at  Florence,  ruined,  perhaps,  like 
poor  shell-torn  Louvain  —  ruined,  yet  glorious  in  ruin.  Con- 
fronting the  Spires,  El  Capitan  soars  upward  in  one  sheer 

*  Quoted  in  Hatching's  In  the  Heart  of  the  Sierras,  Oakland,  Cal., 


t  California,   the    Wonderful,  by   Edwin   Markham,   Hearst's   Inter- 
national Library  Co.,  New  York. 


Courtesy  of  H.  C.  Tibbitts 

OVERHANGING  ROCK,  GLACIER  POINT 

YOSEMITE   NATIONAL   PARK 


Courtesy  of  the  Yosemite  Valley  Ry. 

THE  YOSEMITE  FALLS 


Courtesy  of  the  Yosemite  Valley  Ry. 

CATHEDRAL  SPIRES,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 


THE  YOSEMITE  VALLEY  237 

flight  of  3,300  feet,  impressing  the  soul  with  the  sense  of 
some  final  culmination,  like  the  Last  Judgment.  There  he 
stands,  impervious,  imperishable,  with  the  aspect  of  immor- 
tality, the  gesture  of  omnipotence. 

Between  the  Spires  and  El  Capitan  lies  the  floor  of  the 
valley.  Down  its  center  slowly  and  beautifully  meanders 
the  Merced  River,  lined  on  either  side  with  gloriously  aspir- 
ing trees  and  exquisitely  blooming  flowers.  As  an  added 
grace  to  the  entrance  to  the  Valley,  Pohono,  the  Fall  of  the 
Evil  Wind  —  the  Bridal  Veil  Fall  of  the  poetic  whites  — 
sways  her  mystic,  enchanting  column  of  wind-combed 
waters,  dancing  to  a  hidden  rhythm,  the  very  embodiment 
of  graceful,  serene,  proud,  self-contained  movement,  fas- 
cinating and  hypnotizing  us  the  longer  we  gaze. 

Onward  our  chariot  bears  us  into  this  valley  of  sky- 
pouring  waterfalls  and  heaven-aspiring  cliffs.  In  turn 
Pompompasus,  the  three  leaping  frogs  —  the  Three  Brothers 
—  Sentinel  Dome,  Glacier  Point,  Yosemite  Fall,  the  Royal 
Arches,  Washington  Column,  and  the  North  Dome  come 
into  view.  But  at  the  upper  end  of  the  valley,  dominating 
it,  even  as  El  Capitan  reigns  king  at  the  lower  end,  is  the 
superlative  ice-sculptured,  storm-scarred  face  of  shattered 
Half  Dome,  more  sublime  and  awe-inspiring,  stimulating 
and  awakening  in  its  rended  mass  than  the  smooth,  com- 
plete North  Dome  on  the  other  side  of  Tenaya  Creek.  What 
is  it  about  this  battle- worn  old  monarch  of  the  skies  and 
clouds  that  so  instantly  commands  homage  and  veneration  ? 
Is  it  not  its  suggestion  of  battles  bravely  fought,  storms 
proudly  faced,  dangers  successfully  withstood,  hurricanes 
defiantly  braved?  When  the  cosmic  forces  were  arrayed 
against  it  and  hurled  all  its  powers  one  after  another  upon 


238  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

it,  never  for  a  moment  did  it  flinch,  waver,  or  retire.  Un- 
daunted and  self-confident,  regardless  of  what  it  suffered  or 
endured,  it  stood  its  ground  and  is  now  a  living,  radiant 
embodiment  of  the  triumphant  spirit  of  Victory. 

Nestling  lovingly  and  confidingly  at  its  base  is  Mirror 
Lake,  that  vision  of  supernal  beauty,  where  two  atmospheres 
and  worlds  meet,  where  there  are  two  heavens  and  two 
earths,  where  the  real  meets  the  unreal,  and  the  shadow  is  as 
absolute  to  the  eye  as  the  substance.  Talk  about  the  beauty 
of  man-made  things,  the  unequaled  power  of  man's  artistry! 
Man  may  carve  a  statue,  shape  a  pitcher,  build  a  palace,  work 
cunningly  in  silver,  gold,  bronze,  and  iron,  paint  a  picture, 
but  none  but  the  Divine  could  have  created  Mirror  Lake, 
with  its  momentarily-changing  panorama  of  reflected  glories 
and  kaleidoscopic  colors. 

Even  yet  we  have  not  exhausted  Yosemite.  "We  return 
from  Mirror  Lake,  swing  to  the  right,  pass  the  Happy  Isles, 
ride  up  the  tree-embowered  trail  to  Vernal  Falls,  and  then 
on  and  up  to  Nevada  Falls,  each  a  singing,  wind-swayed, 
sun-glorified,  air-friction-combed  column  of  light,  chanting 
its  eternal  songs  of  the  joy  of  life.  Circling  and  twisting 
higher  and  higher,  the  trail  takes  us  to  Glacier  Point,  from 
whence  we  gain  new  and  startling  glimpses  of  the  floor  of 
the  Valley,  2,000  and  more  feet  beneath,  and  of  the  far- 
reaching  sublimity  of  the  further  peaks  of  the  High  Sierras, 
where  Snow  holds  court  all  the  year,  and  reigns  supreme  in 
his  dazzling  whiteness  and  purity. 

From  Glacier  Point  Hotel  we  ride  out  to  the  Mariposa 
Grove  of  Big  Trees,  or,  if  we  prefer,  we  may  return  to  the 
Valley,  and  ride  around  by  stage  to  hospitable  Wawona, 
where  for  years  the  Washburn  Brothers,  famous  through- 


Courtesy  of  the  Yosemite  Valley  Ry. 

NORTH  DOME 

YOSEMITE    VALLEY 


THE  YOSEMITE  VALLEY  239 

out  the  world  for  their  stage-craft  no  less  than  their  warm- 
hearted and  genuine  reception  of  visitors  from  every  part 
of  the  globe,  hold  forth,  and  go  thence  to  the  grove. 
Jusserand,  the  illustrious  ambassador  of  the  French  Re- 
public to  the  United  States,  with  Mme.  Jusserand,  on  their 
trip  to  the  Pacific  Coast  were  limited  for  time.  But  they 
had  resolved  upon  the  Yosemite  trip.  As  the  days  of  their 
sojourn  were  devoured,  one  by  one,  they  dashed  down  from 
San  Francisco  to  the  Valley,  but  merely  took  the  glances  at 
it  that  passing  by  its  portal  allowed.  They  had  thought  it 
all  over  beforehand,  and  turning  to  Mr.  R.  A.  Donaldson, 
of  the  Southern  Pacific  Company,  who  was  their  pilot, 
exclaimed:  "We  do  not  wish  to  minimize  Yosemite,  yet 
we  have  cliffs  and  waterfalls  and  lakes  in  Europe.  These  we 
can  see  any  time.  But  in  all  Europe  there  are  no  Big  Trees. 
So  let  us  give  all  the  time  we  have  to  them." 

And  as  they  stood  in  the  presence  of  these  solemn  and 
hoary  giants  of  the  arboreal  kingdom,  these  oldest  of  living 
things,  and  greatest,  that  have  lived  on  "majestically,  seri- 
ous, and  reticent,  in  their  green  eternity,  through  the  crash 
of  the  human  centuries  and  the  ruin  of  destinies  and 
dynasties,"  they  acknowledged  their  supremacy  and,  looking 
and  studying  in  reverent  silence,  turned  away,  after  several 
hours,  satisfied. 

So  with  all  visitors  to  the  Yosemite  and  its  neighboring 
Big  Trees.  None  leave  it  unsatisfied,  except  save  in  one 
thing — they  have  not  had  enough.  They  must  come  again, 
and  they  do.  I  have  been  visiting  it  as  often  as  I  could  for 
over  thirty  years,  and  I  hope  to  have  the  increasing  pleasure 
for  many  more. 

To  render  it  easily  accessible,  the  Yosemite  Valley  Rail- 


240  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

way  has  been  built  to  the  very  edge  of  the  Park.  It  connects 
with  both  the  Southern  Pacific  and  the  Santa  Fe  at  Merced. 
At  El  Portal  it  has  erected  a  commodious,  architecturally 
pleasing,  rustic  hotel,  placed  it  under  first-class  management, 
and  rendered  it  a  most  desirable  stopping  place  preparatory 
to  taking  the  automobile,  tally-ho,  or  buggy  trip  into  the 
Valley. 

The  Yosemite  is  under  the  control  of  the  Department  of 
the  Interior,  and  from  the  Superintendent  (addressed  at 
Yosemite  Valley,  California)  those  interested  may  secure 
full  information,  maps,  etc.,  as  well  as  instructive  folders 
from  the  representatives  of  the  three  railways  named. 


THE  GRIZZLY  GIANT 

MARIPOSA   GROVE  OF  BIG  TREES,   CALIFORNIA 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  BIG  TREES  OF  CALIFORNIA 

God  set  seven  signs  upon  this  land  of  ours 

To  teach,  by  awe,  mankind  his  wondrous  powers ; 

A  river  sweeping  broadly  to  the  sea ; 

A  cataract  that  thunders  ceaselessly; 

A  mountain  peak  that  towers  in  heaven's  face; 

A  chasm  deep  —  sunk  toward  the  nether  place ; 

A  lake  that  all  the  wide  horizon  fills ; 

A  pleasant  vale  set  gem-like  in  the  hills; 

And,  worthy  younger  brother  of  all  these, 

The  great  Sequoia,  king  of  all  the  trees. 

—  Charles  Elmer  Jenny. 

EVER  since  their  discovery  the  Big  Trees  of  California 
have  excited  the  admiration  of  the  world,  the  wonder 
of  travelers  and  sight-seers,  and  the  constant  interest  of 
scientists.  As  the  years  have  passed  there  has  been  no 
diminution  of  the  regard,  but  a  constantly  increasing  desire 
to  see  them.  The  result  is  that  the  spirit  of  commercialism 
that  would  have  continued  ruthlessly  to  destroy  them  has 
been  curbed,  and  several  more  or  less  extensive  areas  have 
been  preserved  for  the  benefit  of  posterity. 

There  are  in  California  two  varieties  of  sequoia  —  the 
gigantea  and  the  sempervirens.  The  former  are  found  only 
on  the  western  slopes  of  the  Sierra  Nevadas  at  an  altitude 
from  about  4,500  to  7,500  feet,  and  the  latter  near  the 
coast,  seldom  more  than  fifty  miles  away  from  the  Pacific 
Ocean,  and  extending  in  a  belt  from  the  Oregon  boundary 

241 


242  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

line  as  far  south  as  San  Luis  Obispo  County.  Both  tiees 
are  evergreens,  but  in  the  sempervirens,  commonly  known 
as  the  California  redwood,  the  leaves  are  elongated,  borne 
on  short  stems,  and  extend  forward  and  outward  from  the 
main  stem  in  a  flat  spray.  Their  cones  are  about  the  size  of 
a  thimble,  ripening  in  one  season  but  persisting  on  the 
branches  after  the  seeds  have  been  discharged.  In  the 
gigantea  the  leaves  are  awl-shaped,  sessile  (stemless),  and 
extend  around  the  main  stem.  The  cones  are  as  large  as 
hen's  eggs,  and  mature  the  second  autumn  after  formation. 
The  seeds  are  tiny  and  flat,  and  could  easily  be  confused  with 
parsnip  seeds.  Though  both  bear  seeds,  the  redwood  gen- 
erally reproduces  itself  from  the  stump.  I  have  counted  as 
many  as  three  hundred  young  trees  springing  up  around  the 
stump  of  a  felled  tree.  Nowhere  is  Nature  more  generous 
than  in  the  reproduction  of  these  beautiful  forest  monarchs. 
They  fairly  crowd  one  another  in  their  desire  to  grow.  In 
time  the  larger  and  more  powerful  succeeds  in  rising  above 
the  others.  They  grow  in  forests  in  vast  numbers  which 
cover  hundreds  of  thousands  of  acres,  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  gigantea  stand  only  in  clusters,  or  groups,  in  fel- 
lowship with  other  conifers.  Hence  we  seldom  speak  of  the 
forests  of  gigantea — only  in  one  case,  the  Giant  Forest  — 
but  always  of  groves,  as  Mariposa  Grove,  Calaveras  Grove, 
Fresno  Grove,  etc.  The  gigantea  reproduce  entirely  from 
seed. 

It  is  curious  to  notice  that  the  sempervirens  has  a  ten- 
dency to  form,  in  its  upper  branches,  a  leafage  like  that  of 
the  gigantea,  thus  bearing  testimony  to  their  relationship. 

There  are  three  or  four  groups  or  forests  of  redwoods 
(sempervirens'}  easy  of  access,  and  I  will  write  of  these  first. 


BIG  TREES  OF  CALIFORNIA  243 

To  the  visitor  in  San  Francisco  an  easy  group  to  reach  is 
commonly  known  as  the  Santa  Cruz,  or  Fremont  Group. 
These  trees  are  located  on  the  Santa  Cruz  branch  of  the 
Southern  Pacific  Railway,  and  the  trains  stop  at  Big  Tree 
Station,  after  a  seventy-three-mile  ride  from  San  Fran- 
cisco, which  occupies  two  hours  and  a  half.  The  whole 
of  this  ride  is  interesting,  for  it  includes  the  peninsula, 
Palo  Alto,  San  Jose,  with  glimpses  of  the  Lick  Observatory, 
on  Mt.  Hamilton,  the  world-famous  Santa  Clara  Valley, 
with  its  eight  million  fruit  trees,  and  then  the  Santa  Cruz 
Mountains,  so  graphically  described  by  Bret  Harte  in  some 
of  his  earlier  stories.  This  grove  of  trees  is  privately 
owned  and  a  small  charge  is  made  for  seeing  them. 

But  a  few  miles  further  on,  sixteen  miles  from  Santa 
Cruz,  and  seven  from  the  Boulder  Creek  Station  of  the 
Southern  Pacific,  is  the  California  State  Redwood  Park,  a 
forest  of  3,800  acres,  popularly  known  as  the  Big  Basin. 
It  is  a  region  of  volcanic  fires,  of  upheavals  and  earthquakes, 
of  shattering  cataclysms  and  profound  disturbances.  There 
are  clear  records  of  nine  distinct  and  far-reaching  upheavals, 
as  revealed  in  as  many  profound  inconformities,  and  that 
volcanic  fires  raged  in  several  epochs,  one  of  them  for  a 
considerable  period,  is  equally  well  evidenced.  It  includes 
fully  14,000  acres,  is  irregularly  basin-shaped,  with  the  lower 
rim  towards,  and  close  to,  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

When  the  people  of  California  began  to  realize  that  the 
men  who  thought  more  of  lumber  and  its  cash  value  than  of 
Nature's  teachings  and  what  we  owe  to  posterity  were  rap- 
idly denuding  California  of  its  scmpervirens,  led  by  Ralph 
S.  Smith,  an  editor  of  Redwood  City,  in  the  eighties,  and 
later,  in  1900,  by  Josephine  Clifford  McCrackin,  Carrie 


244  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Stevens  Walter,  Andrew  P.  Hill,  an  agitation  was  begun, 
and  carried  on  successfully,  to  "  Save  the  Redwoods."  The 
Sempervirens  Club  was  organized,  a  fight  for  a  State  Park 
inaugurated,  and  in  1901  the  California  legislature  passed  a 
bill  providing  for  the  purchase  of  a  State  Park  in  the  Big 
Basin.  Three  thousand,  eight  hundred  acres  were  ultimately 
purchased  with  the  $250,000  appropriation  and  the  Cali- 
fornia Redwood  Park  came  officially  into  existence. 

For  several  years  the  only  entrance  was  by  way  of 
Boulder  Creek,  but  in  1915  —  California's  memorable 
Panama  Exposition  year  —  a  new  road  was  completed 
direct  from  San  Jose,  which  is  now  being  used  daily  for 
automobiles. 

This  Park  is  not  merely  a  forest  of  sempervirens.  It  is  a 
nature  palace  of  delight,  with  exhibits  of  a  thousand  other 
varieties  of  trees,  shrubs,  plants,  vines,  flowers,  mosses, 
rapids,  cascades,  waterfalls,  creeks,  boulders,  rocks,  hanging 
gardens,  and  fallen  logs,  enlivened  by  songs  of  towhees, 
thrashers,  juncos,  mocking-birds,  white  and  golden-crowned 
sparrows,  bluebirds,  rock-wrens,  and  canyon-wrens,  and  the 
harsh  calls  of  the  catbirds  and  jays. 

But  it  is  chiefly  to  the  redwoods  that  the  visitor  is  at- 
tracted. Reaching  a  height  of  275  feet  and  an  extreme 
diameter  of  twenty-two  feet,  they  stand,  the  oldest  lining 
things  knoivn.  D.  M.  Delmas,  one  of  California's  native 
orators,  in  a  speech  before  the  state  legislature,  thus  de- 
scribes the  emotions  he  experienced  in  their  presence : 

A  sense  of  humility  overwhelms  you  as  you  gaze  upon  these 
massy  pillars  of  Nature's  temple,  whose  tops,  lost  amid  the 
clouds,  seem  to  support  the  vault  of  the  blue  empyrean.  The 
spell  which  the  mystic  light  of  some  venerable  cathedral  may 


BIG  TREES  OF  CALIFORNIA  245 

at  times  have  thrown  upon  your  soul  is  tame  compared  to  that 
which  binds  you  here.  That  was  man's  place  of  worship ;  this 
is  God's.  In  the  presence  of  these  titanic  offspring  of  Nature, 
standing  before  you  in  the  hoar  austerity  of  centuries,  how 
dwarfed  seems  your  being,  how  fleeting  your  existence !  They 
were  here  when  you  were  born ;  and  though  you  allow  your 
thoughts  to  go  back  on  the  wings  of  imagination  to  your  re- 
motest ancestry,  you  realize  that  they  were  here  when  your 
first  forefather  had  his  being.  All  human  work  which  you 
have  seen,  or  conceived  of,  is  recent  in  comparison.  Time  has 
not  changed  them  since  Columbus  first  erected  an  altar  upon 
this  continent,  nor  since  Titus  builded  the  walls  of  the  Flavian 
amphitheater,  nor  since  Solomon  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
temple  at  J  erusalem.  They  were  old  when  Moses  led  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel  to  the  promised  land,  or  when  Egyptian  mon- 
archs  piled  up  the  pyramids  and  bade  the  Sphynx  gaze  with 
eyes  of  perpetual  sadness  over  the  desert  sands  of  the  Valley 
of  the  Nile.  And  if  their  great  mother,  Nature,  is  permitted 
still  to  protect  them,  here  they  will  stand  defying  time  when 
not  a  stone  of  this  capitol  is  left  to  mark  the  spot  on  which 
it  now  stands,  and  its  very  existence  may  have  faded  into  the 
mists  of  tradition.* 

There  are  several  noted  trees,  as  the  Father  of  the  Forest, 
the  Mother  of  the  Forest,  etc.,  which  all  visitors  should  not 
fail  to  see.  Nearer,  still,  however,  to  San  Francisco  are  the 
Muir  Woods.  These  are  just  across  the  bay,  seven  miles  in 
a  straight  line  from  the  City  of  the  Golden  Gate.  They  are 
reached  by  ferryboat  to  Sausalito  and  thence  electric  car  to 
Mill  Valley,  and  the  Mt.  Tamalpais  and  Muir  Woods  Rail- 
way. This  remnant  of  a  redwood  forest  is  one  of  the  most 
noted  spots  in  California.  The  land,  comprising  295  acres, 
was  purchased  by  Congressman  William  Kent  and  his  wife, 
Elizabeth  Thatcher  Kent,  and  presented,  December  31,  1907, 
to  the  people  of  the  United  States,  through  the  Secretary  of 

*  California  Redwood  Park,  by  Arthur  A.  Taylor,  W.  Richardson, 
Sacramento,  Cal. 


246  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

the  Interior.  It  was  named  after  John  Muir,  the  poet- 
scientist-naturalist  of  the  mountains  of  California,  and  com- 
prises many  redwoods  which  have  a  height  of  300  feet  and 
a  diameter  of  eighteen  feet  and  more. 

In  the  northern  part  of  the  state  there  are  still  several 
large  tracts,  virgin  and  untouched.  The  people  of  Humboldt 
County  are  now  seeking  to  have  one  of  these  fine  tracts  of 
the  largest  remaining  trees  set  apart  as  a  State  Forest,  in 
which  laudable  desire  all  patriotic  citizens  will  aid  and  wish 
them  Godspeed. 

We  must  now  turn,  however,  to  the  other  variety  of  Big 
Trees,  the  Sequoia  Gigantea,  which  is  the  king  of  all  trees, 
both  in  age  and  size.  We  are  told  they  grow  sometimes  400 
feet  high,  and  numbers  of  them  have  a  girth  of  seventy  to 
ninety  feet.  The  largest  found  was  thirty-five  feet,  eight 
inches  in  diameter,  inside  the  bark. 

In  the  chapter  on  the  Yosemite  a  brief  reference  is  made 
to  the  Mariposa  Grove.  This  is  reached  by  stage  from 
Glacier  Point,  Wawona  Hotel,  Sentinel  Hotel  in  the 
Yosemite  Valley,  or  El  Portal  at  the  end  of  the  Yosemite 
Valley  Railway. 

The  Merced  and  Tuolumne  Groves  are  a  short  distance 
beyond  the  northeastern  boundary  of  the  Yosemite  National 
Forest,  and  are  reached  by  auto-stage  from  El  Portal. 

The  Calaveras  Grove  was  the  first  one  discovered.  It  was 
found  in  1852  by  A.  T.  Dowd,  a  professional  hunter,  and 
the  tree  he  first  saw  was  afterwards  cut  down.  Its  size  can 
best  be  imagined  by  the  fact  that  on  July  4,  1854,  J.  M. 
Hutchings  vouches  that  he  was  one  of  a  cotillion  party  of 
thirty-two  persons  who  danced  on  the  stump,  and  that 
besides  the  dancers  there  were  seventeen  additional 


en 
0 

O 
O 


O 
ID 


w 

H 


O 


COMPARISON   OF   ONE   OF   CALIFORNIA'S 
BIG  TREES  WITH  A  CHURCH 


BIG  TREES  OF  CALIFORNIA  247 

musicians  and  onlookers,  making  forty-nine  occupants  of 
the  surface.  It  was  originally  302  feet  high  and  ninety-six 
feet  in  circumference.  Some  money-making  vandal  removed 
the  bark  to  a  height  of  thirty  feet,  and  sent  it  to  the  cele- 
brated Crystal  Palace,  in  London,  where  it  was  afterwards 
burned. 

In  this  grove  of  fifty  acres  there  are  ninety-three  trees  of 
large  size,  twenty  of  them  exceeding  twenty-five  feet  in 
diameter.  It  is  reached  by  the  Sierra  Railway  from  Oak- 
dale  (where  change  is  made  from  the  cars  of  the  Southern 
Pacific)  to  Angels,  and  thence  by  stage.  Six  miles  south  of 
the  Calaveras  Grove  is  the  South  Park  Grove,  containing 
over  1,380  trees. 

September  25,  1890,  Congress  set  apart  161,597  acres  in 
Tulare  and  Fresno  Counties  as  the  Sequoia  National  Park, 
and  October  i  of  the  same  year,  2,536  acres  as  the  General 
Grant  National  Park.  These  may  both  be  reached  by  the 
San  Joaquin  Valley  lines  of  both  the  Southern  Pacific  and 
Santa  Fe  Railways.  Full  information  of  routes  and  dis- 
tances can  be  gained  from  folders  issued  by  both  railways, 
and  also  from  a  government  pamphlet  which  may  be  obtained 
from  the  Superintendent  of  Public  Parks,  Monadnock 
Building,  San  Francisco. 

John  Muir;  Smeaton  Chase,  W.  L.  Jepson,  and  many 
others  have  written  wonderful  words  inspired  by  the  noble 
presence  and  sublime  majesty  of  these  trees.  Here  is  what 
Edwin  Markham  says  in  his  recent  book,  California,  the 
Wonderful: 

They  stand  hushed  and  serene  in  the  midst  of  lesser  trees 
whose  boughs  tremble  to  every  wind  that  blows.  The  im- 
mobility of  the  sequoias  is  as  wonderful  as  their  immensity. 


248  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

Yet  the  extreme  tops  of  the  trees  wave  in  the  wind;  and  im- 
pressive and  sublime  is  the  motion  of  their  lofty  branches.  But 
their  massive  boughs,  however,  do  not  appear  to  sway,  and 
whenever  these  ancients  of  the  wood  take  counsel  with  one 
another  in  the  upper  air,  no  whisper  of  it  drifts  down  to  the 
listener  on  the  ground.  They  appear  to  stand  in  eternal  calm.* 

Elsewhere  in  the  same  book  he  says : 

Majestical,  symmetrical,  unshaken  by  wind  and  storm,  each 
tree  approaches  almost  perfectly  the  archetypal :  there  is  no 
other  tree  so  Aeschylean  in  dignity.  Unsubdued  by  Time,  the 
sequoias  stand  in  their  places  as  the  oldest  watchers  of  our 
world. 

*  Hearst's  International  Library  Co.,  New  York,  1914. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
THE  LAKE  OF  THE  SKY  — LAKE  TAHOE 

I  HAVE  called  Lake  Tahoe  the  Lake  of  the  Sky  because 
the  name  is  singularly  appropriate.  It  is  the  largest  lake, 
with  but  one  exception,  at  its  altitude  —  6,250  feet  —  in  the 
world.  Its  waters  more  nearly  resemble  in  color  the  pure, 
deep  blue  of  the  high  Sierran  sky  than  the  water  of  any  lake 
I  know;  and,  further,  it  so  perfectly  mirrors  the  varying 
effects  of  the  sky,  in  clouds,  color,  and  atmosphere  that  it 
becomes  in  itself  an  inverted  sky  —  a  sky  seen  below,  instead 
of  above. 

Slowly  Lake  Tahoe  is  coming  into  its  own.  Even  those 
living  nearest  to  it,  Calif ornians  and  Nevadans,  do  not  yet 
appreciate  and  know  it  as  they  will  ere  long.  There  is  noth- 
.ing  in  the  Alps,  in  Italy,  in  France,  or  Spain  that  equals  it. 
Though  only  a  mountain  lake  of  ordinary  type,  it  can  be 
said  truthfully  that  it  and  its  environment  are  unique  and 
incomparable.  Just  as  there  is  but  one  Yosemite,  one  Yel- 
lowstone, one  Grand  Canyon,  one  Crater  Lake,  there  is  but 
one  Lake  Tahoe. 

Why? 

Let  us  see  if  this  bold  statement  can  be  made  good.  There 
are  eight  points,  in  all  of  which  Lake  Tahoe  is  incomparable : 

(i)  Geological  history,  which  includes  the  continental 
uplift,  great  volcanic  activity,  glacial  denudation  on  a  large 
scale,  and  its  present  varied  features  and  environment. 

249 


250  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

(2)  Its  abounding  glacial  lakes,  of  exquisite  beauty  and 
charming  surroundings.    There  are  literally  not  scores,  but 
hundreds,  of  them,  and  each  one  seems  more  enchanting 
than  the  others. 

(3)  In  these  lakes  fishing  of  the  finest  game  trout  in  the 
world  is  constant  during  the  season.    The  clear,  cold,  crystal 
waters,  flowing  directly  from  glacial  fountains,  make  ideal 
conditions  for  the  life  of  the  native  trout,  and  the  Loch  Levin, 
Eastern  Brook,  Mackinac,  and  other  varieties  that  are  sent 
in  by  the  million  from  the  various  hatcheries.     The  angler 
is  ever  sure  of  his  sport  and  the  epicure  of  his  delicious  trout. 

(4)  The  trees  of  the  High  Sierras  in  the  Tahoe  region 
are  not  surpassed,  and  I  doubt  much  whether  they  are 
equaled  in  variety,  number,  size,  and  beauty,  in  any  region 
of  similar  area  in  the  world. 

(5)  The  variety  of  the  scenery  of  Lake  Tahoe  and  the 
Tahoe  region  is  ever  the  marvel  of  its  lovers  and  most  fre- 
quent visitants.     Hovering  over  it  and  almost  completely 
surrounding  the  Lake  are  snow-clad  peaks,  from  9,000  to 
12,000  feet  high,  bathed  in  a  sky  of  the  most  ineffable  blue 
and  in  an  atmosphere  as  pellucid  as  that  in  which  Euripides 
saw  the  Athenian  soldiers  marching.    Each  of  these  peaks 
bids  the  visitor  climb  to  supernal  heights  and  dazzling  out- 
looks.    Below  are  the  hundreds  of   glacial  lakes  before 
referred  to,  and  on  the  slopes  are  the  glorious  trees  that 
enchant  the  eye.     Hanging  directly  over   Glacial   Valley 
is  the  last  great  crest  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  Range,  with 
Pyramid  and  Agassiz  Peaks  towering  above  the  narrow 
ridge,  where  glaciers  nestle  and  tell  of  the  past  ages  when 
the  ridge  was  5,000,  7,500,  perhaps  10,000  feet  higher  than 
it  is  at  the  present  day,  and  when  great  glacial  blankets 


LAKE  OF  THE  SKY— LAKE  TAHOE  251 

flowed  down  on  their  gouging,  scooping,  polishing,  beveling 
errands  into  the  valleys  below.  Then,  to  the  east,  lie  the 
sagebrush  levels  of  Nevada,  surrounded  by  their  colorful 
but  always  verdureless  hills,  where  gold,  silver,  and  other 
precious  minerals  have  been  found  into  the  scores  of  mil- 
lions of  dollars.  Nearby  are  the  clearly  indicated  remnants 
of  the  prehistoric  Lake  Lahontan,  which  reaches  from  the 
foothills  of  the  eastern  Sierras  clear  across  Nevada  and  into 
Utah,  with  a  corresponding  width,  north  and  south. 

(6)  Nor  is  this  wonderful  variety  of  scenery  confined  to 
the  immediate  neighborhood  of  Tahoe.  It  affects  all  the 
approaches,  the  railroads  and  automobile  roads,  that  make 
it  so  easily  accessible.  The  Southern  Pacific  from  the  east 
(Ogden  route)  crosses  the  sagebrush  wastes  of  Nevada  just 
before  it  climbs  into  the  very  heart  of  the  rugged,  tree-clad, 
verdant,  snow-covered  Sierras.  What  a  marvelous  change 
and  contrast  in  a  few  hours.  Coming  from  the  west,  the 
Sacramento  Valley  is  crossed,  the  orchard-blessed  foothills 
of  the  gentle  western  slopes  of  the  Sierras,  and  finally  the 
heaven-aspiring  summits.  The  change  from  both  directions 
is  at  the  same  place,  Truckee,  and  here  the  cars  of  the  Lake 
Tahoe  Railway  &  Transportation  Company  are  taken,  and 
for  an  hour  one  rides  enchanted  by  the  side  of  the  pictur- 
esque Truckee  River,  whose  course  is  the  only  outlet  pos- 
sessed by  Lake  Tahoe,  though  a  hundred  streams  and  springs 
empty  into  it,  and  whose  waters  now  flow  placidly  and 
smoothly  through  open  meadows  and  anon  dash  wildly 
through  lava-lined  canyons  and  over  rocky  boulder  beds 
which  churn  them  into  whitest  foam.  Automobiles  have 
even  more  wonderfully  varied  scenery.  Coming  from  the 
east  they  enter  a  land  of  enchantment,  after  leaving  the 


252  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

sagebrush  plains,  for  the  ride  from  Reno  —  and  there  are 
three  separate  and  distinct  routes  that  may  be  taken  —  all 
lead  through  tree-clad  mountain  slopes  on  well  engineered 
and  cared  for  roads.  From  San  Francisco  the  course  to 
Sacramento  is  the  same,  then  the  roads  fork  and  two  routes 
are  open,  one  by  way  of  Placerville  and  the  other  by  Emi- 
grant Gap  and  Donner  Lake.  Both  are  historic  roads,  hal- 
lowed by  sacred  associations  of  hardy  pioneers,  and  later  by 
eager  gold-seekers  coming  to  California  or  leaving  for  the 
newer  developed  fields  of  the  Comstock  at  Virginia  City, 
and  both  are  picturesque  and  sublime,  as  all  roads  over  the 
Sierran  barrier  must  be.  The  State  of  California  sees  to  it, 
however,  that  the  roads  are  as  good  as  they  can  be  made 
and  the  separate  counties  keep  them  in  condition.  There 
are  two  other  roads  for  those  who  wish  to  come  up  by  motor 
from  the  south  —  Los  Angeles  and  San  Diego.  One  route 
is  through  the  fertile  San  Joaquin  Valley  to  Sacramento 
(with,  by  the  way,  an  additional  choice  of  a  road  up  the 
Pacific  Coast,  by  Santa  Barbara,  San  Luis  Obispo,  and 
Monterey) ,  while  the  other  is  over  the  Walker  Pass,  at  the 
southern  end  of  the  Sierra  Nevadas,  and  up  on  the  eastern 
side  of  this  Range  of  Light,  where  snow-clad  peaks  that 
equal  the  Alps  seem  to  be  directly  overhead. 

(7)  This  brief  and  scant  description  of  the  various  ap- 
proaches renders  the  seventh  point  merely  to  be  mentioned ; 
viz.,  ease  of  access.    Few  places,  even  in  populous  Europe, 
can  be  reached  so  easily,  quickly,  and  cheaply  as  can  Lake 
Tahoe. 

(8)  There  now  remains  but  one  point  to  elucidate,  and 
that  is  one  which  few  understand.     Yet  it  is  important  in 
the  extreme  to  one  class,  perhaps  several  classes  of  visitors. 


LAKE  OF  THE  SKY— LAKE  TAHOE  253 

That  is,  the  climatic  hospitality  of  the  Tahoe  region.  It 
never  fails,  winter  or  summer,  to  extend  the  hands  of  warm 
and  kindly  hospitality.  Not  that  there  are  no  storms  in  the 
Tahoe  region  in  winter.  There  are  many,  and  sometimes 
they  are  very  severe,  where  the  wind  blows  and  snow  falls 
heavily.  But  storms  come  and  go,  and  never  last  long,  and 
when  they  have  gone,  ah,  who  can  tell  the  sweet  purity  of 
expanse  they  leave  behind  them,  the  sense  of  heavenly  clean- 
liness that  mortals  seldom  feel,  as  well  as  the  indications  of 
power  and  supremacy  they  reveal !  In  the  spring,  summer, 
and  autumn,  however,  there  are  practically  few  storms. 
Then  the  whole  Sierras  seem  to  smile  hearty  welcome  to 
visitors.  They  bid  them  enter  and  possess  the  land.  To 
camp  out  in  such  mountains  is  inexpressible  delight. 

No  mosquitoes  to  speak  of,  no  dangerous  reptiles  or  ani- 
mals, no  poisonous  plants  or  vines,  no  pitfalls,  no  hostile 
Indians,  few  disadvantages  of  any  kind,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  abundance  of  shade,  crystal  water,  lakes  abounding 
in  fish,  trees  alive  with  game  birds,  forests  where  roam 
innumerable  deer  and  other  game.  Fine  trails  have  been 
engineered  and  built  to  every  salient  point,  and  obscure 
nooks  of  divine  beauty  opened  up  for  man's  delectation. 
The  lakes  have  all  been  stocked  with  trout  and  here  a  man 
may  loaf  and  invite  his  soul  to  his  everlasting  content  and 
benefit,  and  a  woman  may  learn  afresh  that  life  may  be  a 
perpetual  joy  instead  of  a  maddening  round  of  insanity- 
absorbing  functions. 

Here,  then,  in  brief  outline,  I  have  suggested  why  Tahoe 
is  incomparable.  A  few  more  touches  must  suffice  for  this 
necessarily  imperfect  and  inadequate  picture.  To  provide 
for  the  needs  of  the  thousands  of  people  who  annually  visit 


254  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

the  Tahoe  region  a  number  of  hotels  and  camps  have  grown 
up.  First  among  these  is  Tahoe  Tavern,  on  the  edge  of  the 
Lake,  and  the  terminus  of  the  Lake  Tahoe  Railway.  Built 
in  a  style  appropriate  to  its  forest  and  lake  surroundings, 
equipped  so  as  to  satisfy  the  needs  of  the  most  exacting  and 
experienced  traveler,  its  management  may  be  characterized 
as  ideal.  Here,  also,  are  golf  links,  tennis  courts,  as  well 
as  the  finely  equipped  Casino,  where  ballroom,  bowling 
alley,  and  the  score  and  one  other  indoor  games  of  popular 
fancy  are  provided.  In  addition,  the  Tavern  owns  its  fleet 
of  fine  power  launches,  fishing  boats,  etc.,  with  capacities 
from  200  down,  so  that  parties  can  be  formed  for  riding  on 
the  lake,  fishing,  etc.  Yet  while  the  Tavern  is  first-class  in 
every  respect  it  anticipates  and  expects  that  many  of  its 
patrons  come  to  the  Lake  for  a  surcease  from  social  exac- 
tions, hence  one  enters  the  dining-room  or  lounging-room 
as  freely  and  as  welcome  in  a  riding  suit  or  golfing  costume 
as  if  clothed  de  rigueur. 

In  the  other  hotels  and  camps  of  the  region  every  variety 
of  taste  is  provided  for,  and  demands  upon  the  purse  vary 
in  like  degree. 

During  the  season  steamers  ply  around  the  Lake,  seventy 
miles,  one  working  down  the  western  side,  southward,  and 
around  by  the  eastern  Nevada  side,  to  the  north,  and  back 
to  the  Tavern,  and  the  other  in  the  reverse  direction,  so  that 
ready  and  easy  access  is  afforded  to  every  portion  of  the 
Lake. 

There  are  a  score  or  two  of  mountain  peaks,  ranging  in 
elevation  above  sea-level  from  eight  to  twelve  thousand 
feet,  within  easy  walking  or  riding  distance  of  the  hotels 
and  camps.  The  level  of  the  Lake  itself  is  over  6,000  feet, 


Courtesy  of  H.  C.  Tibbitts 

CAVE  ROCK,  LAKE  TAHOE 


LOOKING  NORTH  FROM  CAVE  ROCK,  LAKE  TAHOE 


RUBICON  POINT,  LAKE  TAHOE 


LAKE  OF  THE  SKY— LAKE  TAHOE  255 

as  before  noted,  so  that  one  starts  his  climb  at  a  high  alti- 
tude. Finely  engineered  trails  have  been  built  to  afford 
comparatively  easy  access  to  all  these  peaks,  and  the  city 
dweller  here  becomes  the  Sierran  climber  to  his  great  phy- 
sical and  mental  advantage.  Trees  in  glorious  variety  and 
profusion,  wild  flowers  in  such  a  bewilderment  of  proces- 
sion as  to  dazzle  one  unused  to  the  prolific  exuberance  of 
Nature  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  birds  galore  add  joy  to 
the  outings,  and  the  fact  that  the  Lake  is  seldom  long  out 
of  sight  gives  added  enjoyment,  for  its  delights  are  ever 
changing  and  each  new  change  seems  to  make  it  more 
entrancingly  beautiful. 

Then,  too,  to  render  its  charms  more  easy  of  daily  and 
hourly  access,  the  State  Highway  Commission  of  California 
two  years  ago  completed  a  fine  highway  for  automobiles 
reaching  from  the  Tavern  at  the  north  end  of  the  Lake  to 
Tallac  House  at  the  south  end.  This,  with  roads  already 
built,  practically  afford  one  the  opportunity  for  a  ride 
around  about  two-thirds  of  the  Lake's  circumference,  and 
every  mile  of  it  is  a  mile  of  enchantment.  Hence  motor 
cars  come  daily,  during  the  season,  by  the  scores,  even  the 
hundreds,  and  the  Tavern's  large  accommodations  are  taxed 
to  the  limit.  Therefore  it  will  be  seen  that  the  Tahoe  region 
is  not  only  worthy  to  be  ranked  as  one  of  America's  won- 
derlands, and  already  is  beginning  to  enjoy  the  fame  that 
belongs  to  it,  but  that  each  year  will  see  it  more  widely 
heralded  around  the  world. 

And  yet,  in  my  necessarily  brief  description  of  Tahoe,  1 
have  said  nothing  as  yet  of  its  chief  charm  to  many  visitors, 
namely,  the  gloriously  exquisite  colors  of  its  waters.  Here 
is  what  Mark  Twain  said  about  the  Lake : 


256  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

At  last  the  Lake  burst  upon  us  —  a  noble  sheet  of  blue  water 
lifted  six  thousand  three  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
sea,  and  walled  in  by  a  rim  of  snow-clad  mountain  peaks  that 
towered  aloft  full  three  thousand  feet  higher  still!  It  was  a 
vast  oval,  and  one  would  have  to  use  up  eighty  or  a  hundred 
good  miles  in  traveling  around  it.  As  it  lay  there  with  the 
shadows  of  the  mountains  brilliantly  photographed  upon  its 
still  surface  I  thought  it  must  surely  be  the  fairest  picture  the 
whole  earth  affords. 

After  supper,  as  the  darkness  closed  down  and  the  stars  came 
out  and  spangled  the  great  mirror  with  jewels,  we  smoked 
meditatively  in  the  solemn  hush  and  forgot  our  troubles  and 
our  pains.  In  due  time  we  spread  our  blankets  in  the  warm 
sand  between  two  large  boulders  and  soon  fell  asleep.  *  *  * 

It  is  always  very  cold  on  that  lake  shore  in  the  night,  but 
we  had  plenty  of  blankets  and  were  warm  enough.  We  never 
moved  a  muscle  all  night,  but  waked  at  early  dawn  in  the  orig- 
inal positions,  and  got  up  at  once  thoroughly  refreshed,  free 
from  soreness,  and  brim  full  of  friskiness.  There  is  no  end  of 
wholesome  medicine  in  such  an  experience.  That  morning  we 
could  have  whipped  ten  such  people  as  we  were  the  day  before 
—  sick  ones,  at  any  rate.  But  the  world  is  slow,  and  people 
will  go  to  "  water  cures  "  and  "  movement  cures  "  and  to  for- 
eign lands  for  health.  Three  months  of  camp  life  on  Lake 
Tahoe  would  restore  an  Egyptian  mummy  to  his  pristine  vigor, 
and  give  him  an  appetite  like  an  alligator.  I  do  not  mean  the 
oldest  and  driest  mummies,  of  course,  but  the  fresher  ones. 
The  air  up  there  in  the  clouds  is  very  pure  and  fine,  bracing 
and  delicious.  And  why  shouldn't  it  be?  It  is  the  same  the 
angels  breathe.  I  think  that  hardly  any  amount  of  fatigue  can 
be  gathered  together  that  a  man  cannot  sleep  off  in  one  night 
on  the  sand  by  its  side.  Not  under  a  roof,  but  under  the  sky; 
it  seldom  or  never  rains  there  in  the  summer  time.* 

To  return  to  the  colors  of  Lake  Tahoe,  Emerald  Bay  and 
Meek's  Bay  are  justly  world-famed  for  their  triumphs  of 
color  glories,  for  here  there  seem  to  be  those  peculiar  com- 

*  Roughing  It,  by  Mark  Twain.  By  kind  permission  of  Harper  & 
Bros.,  New  York. 


LAKE  OF  THE  SKY— LAKE  TAHOE  257 

binations  of  varied  objects  and  depths,  from  the  shallowest 
to  the  deepest,  with  the  variations  of  colored  sands  and 
rocks  on  the  bottom,  as  well  as  queer-shaped  and  colored 
boulders  lying  on  the  vari-colored  sands,  that  are  not  found 
elsewhere.  The  waving  of  the  water  gives  a  mottled  effect 
surpassing  the  most  delicate  and  richly-shaded  marbles  and 
onyxes.  Watered-silks  of  the  most  perfect  manufacture 
are  but  childish  and  juvenile  attempts  at  reproduction,  and 
finest  Turkish  shawls,  Bokhara  rugs,  or  Arab  sheiks'  dearest 
prized  Prayer  Carpets  are  but  glimmering  suggestions  of 
what  the  Master  Artist  Himself  has  here  produced. 

These  are  not  the  glowing  colors  of  sunrises  and  sunsets, 
but  they  are  equally  sublime,  awe-inspiring,  and  enchanting. 
There  are  Alpine-glows  and  peach-blooms  and  opalescent  fire- 
gleams  and  subtle  suggestions  that  thrill  moment  by  moment 
and  disappear  as  soon  as  seen,  only  to  be  followed  by  equally 
beautiful  and  surprising  effects,  and  with  it  all  a  mobility,  a 
fluidity,  a  rippling,  flowing,  waving,  tossing  series  of  effects 
that  belong  only  to  enchanted  water — water  kissed  into 
glory  by  the  sun  and  moon,  lured  into  softest  beauty  by 
the  glamour  of  the  stars,  and  etherealized  by  the  quiet  and 
subtle  charms  of  the  Milky  Way,  and  of  the  suns,  comets, 
and  meteors  that  the  eye  of  man  has  never  gazed  upon.  .  .  . 

The  blue  alone  is  enough  to  impress  it  forever  upon  the 
observant  mind.  Its  rich,  deep,  perfect  splendor  is  a  con- 
stant surprise.  One  steps  from  his  hotel,  not  thinking  of 
the  Lake  —  the  blue  of  it  rises  through  the  trees,  over  the 
rocks,  everywhere,  with  startling  vividness.  Surely  never 
before  was  so  large  and  wonderful  a  lake  of  inky  blue, 
sapphire  blue,  ultramarine,  amethystine  richness  spread  out 
for  man's  enjoyment.  And  while  the  summer  months  show 


258  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

this  in  all  its  smooth  placidity  and  quietude,  there  seems  to 
be  a  deeper  blue,  a  richer  shade  take  possession  of  the  waves 
in  the  fall,  or  when  its  smoothness  is  rudely  dispelled  by 
the  storms  of  winter  and  spring. 

The  great  scientist — the  John  Tyndall  of  the  Pacific 
Coast  —  John  Le  Conte,  at  one  time  President  of  the  State 
University  of  California,  thus  expressed  himself : 

When  quietly  floating  upon  the  placid  surface  of  Lake  Tahoe, 
the  largest  of  the  "Gems  of  the  Sierra" — nestled,  as  it  is, 
amidst  a  huge  amphitheater  of  mountain  peaks  —  it  is  difficult 
to  say  whether  we  are  more  powerfully  impressed  with  the 
genuine  child-like  awe  and  wonder  inspired  by  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  noble  grandeur  of  nature,  or  with  the  calmer  and 
more  gentle  sense  of  the  beautiful  produced  by  the  less  impos- 
ing aspects  of  the  surrounding  scenery.  On  the  one  hand,  crag 
and  beetling  cliff  sweeping  in  rugged  and  colossal  massiveness 
above  dark  waves  of  pine  and  fir,  far  into  the  keen  and  clear 
blue  air;  the  huge  mantle  of  snow,  so  cumulus-like  in  its 
brightness,  thrown  in  many  a  solid  fold  over  ice-sculptured 
crest  and  shoulders;  the  dark  cathedral-like  spires  and  splin- 
tered pinnacles,  half  snow,  half  stone,  rising  into  the  sky  like 
the  very  pillars  of  heaven.  On  the  other  hand  the  waving  ver- 
dure of  the  valleys  below,  the  dash  of  waterfalls,  the  plenteous 
gush  of  springs,  the  laugh  and  dance  of  brook  and  rivulet 
as  they  hurry  down  the  plains.  Add  to  this  picture  the  deep 
repose  of  the  azure  water,  on  which  are  mirrored  snow-clad 
peaks,  as  well  as  marginal  fringes  of  waving  forests  and  green 
meadows,  and  it  is  difficult  to  decide  whether  the  sense  of  gran- 
deur or  of  beauty  has  obtained  the  mastery  of  the  soul.* 

Folders  containing  full  information  of  Lake  Tahoe  may 
be  obtained  free  by  addressing  the  Advertising  Department 
of  the  Southern  Pacific  Railway  Company,  San  Francisco, 
or  the  Lake  Tahoe  Railway  &  Transportation  Company, 
Rialto  Building,  San  Francisco. 

*  Quoted  in  The  Lake  of  the  Sky,  by  George  Wharton  James. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
THE  CHANNEL  ISLANDS  OF  CALIFORNIA 

WHEN  Cabrillo  sailed  up  the  western  coast  in  1542, 
and  thus  became  the  man  we  remember  as  the  first 
white  ever  to  gaze  upon  California  and  make  its  wonders 
known  to  the  world,  he  little  dreamed  that  he  was  destined 
to  leave  his  bones  to  bleach  on  the  wind  and  sun-swept  sand- 
dunes  of  one  of  the  islands  that  he  was  the  first  to  see. 
There  are  about  twenty  of  these,  most  of  them  visible  on  a 
clear  day  from  Santa  Barbara,  and  two  or  three  from  Mt. 
Lowe,  Pasadena,  or  Los  Angeles  harbor  at  San  Pedro. 
The  best  known  and  oftenest  visited  is  Santa  Catalina, 
named  by  my  learned  and  poetic  friend,  Charles  Frederick 
Holder,  "the  Island  of  Summer."  And  surely  it  is  an 
island  of  summer.  Laved  forever  in  the  warm  waters  that 
flow  up  thus  far  from  the  South  Pacific  Ocean,  its  north 
side  is  a  place  sheltered  from  the  winds  where  no  surf  or" 
beating  waves  ever  dash  angrily  over  its  sandy  beaches  and 
pebbly  strands,  and  the  climate  from  October  to  May  seldom 
demands  an  overcoat.  In  December  violets  and  roses,  bou- 
gainvillea  and  Easter  lilies,  poinsettias  and  cannae;  aye, 
and  even  the  delicate  heliotrope  are  in  full  bloom,  and 
one  sits  on  the  lawn  reading  the  newspaper  in  his  shirt 
sleeves. 

Steamers   ply   back   and    forth   constantly,    winter   and 
summer   alike,   carrying  thousands   of   visitors   and   hun- 

259 


260  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

dreds  of  regular  residents,  for  the  town  of  Avalon  has  a 
steady  population  of  several  thousands,  which  is  constantly 
increasing. 

While  Santa  Catalina  and  some  of  the  other  islands  are 
privately  owned,  others  belong  to  the  government,  and  the 
largest  of  these,  San  Clemente,  which  has  the  reputation  of 
possessing  the  most  remarkable  sea-angling  in  the  world,  is 
practically  a  national  fish  and  game  preserve. 

The  scientists  assure  us  that  these  islands  were  once  a 
portion  of  the  mainland,  or,  no,  perhaps  it  would  be  nearer 
the  truth  to  say  that  they  tried  to  become  so.  When  the 
uplift  from  the  primeval  ocean  took  place  that  raised  the 
coast  of  California  out  of  the  ooze  of  sea-bottom  and  made 
it  into  mountain  and  valley,  these  island  areas  struggled  up 
so  far,  and  then  stopped,  having  merely  succeeded  in  raising 
their  heads  above  the  drowning  point.  Some  came  up 
higher  than  others,  and  these  form  the  important  islands  of 
today,  San  Clemente,  Santa  Catalina,  Santa  Cruz,  Santa 
Rosa,  and  San  Miguel.  They  are  all  Sans  or  Santas  (saints, 
male  or  female)  because,  when,  sixty  years  after  Cabrillo, 
Sebastian  Vizcaino  came,  he  named  them  all  (ignoring  the 
names  given  by  their  real  discoverer)  after  the  Saint's  Day 
on  which  he  first  saw  them. 

In  those  days  they  had  quite  an  Indian  population,  but  it 
has  since  disappeared,  though  relic  hunters  every  now  and 
again  dig  up  utensils  and  implements  that  clearly  indicate 
both  large  regular  population  and  incidental  visitation. 
Hence  the  Indians  must  have  been  boat-builders  of  some 
kind  and  fairly  familiar  with  the  simple  navigation  of  the 
waters  between  the  islands  and  the  mainland.  They  were 
great  traders,  too,  for  the  soapstone  mortars  from  the 


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CHANNEL  ISLANDS  OF  CALIFORNIA         261 

quarry  on  Santa  Catalina  Island  are  found  scattered  all  up 
and  down  the  coast. 

The  quarry  itself  is  still  there  —  as  the  Indians  left  it  — 
with  great  mortars  half  quarried  out  of  the  sloping  face  of 
the  cliff,  looking  like  some  new  kind  of  geologic  conglom- 
erate, formed  of  Indian  mortars,  pestles,  and  other  utensils, 
and  powdered  up,  slippery  rock,  all  stuck  together,  with 
some  of  the  bigger  ingredients  sticking  out  of  the  general 
mass. 

Graves,  too,  have  been  found,  with  bones  and  skulls, 
together  with  stone  sinkers,  obsidian  arrow  and  spear 
points,  bone  whistles,  flutes  made  beautiful  with  pearl 
mosaic,  stuck  on  with  asphaltum,  strings  of  bead  necklaces, 
etc.  Tons  of  these  interesting  aboriginal  remains  have  been 
dug  up,  and  they  now  adorn  the  Smithsonian  Institution  and 
the  museums  of  the  world. 

But  the  Channel  Islands  are  peculiarly  interesting  as  one 
of  the  chief  playgrounds  of  the  world  of  fishermen.  The 
angler  finds  here  his  paradise.  Anyone  who  has  seen  the 
hosts  of  leaping  tuna,  long-finned  tuna,  yellowfin,  white 
sea  bass,  leaping  swordfish,  yellowtail,  monster  June,  sun- 
fish,  and  other  fish,  gathered  in  as  I  have  seen  them  at 
Catalina,  does  not  need  to  be  told  that  here  is  one  of  the 
rare  spots  of  the  world  for  the  fisherman.  It  makes  no  dif- 
ference where  the  angler  comes  from,  and  what  his  catch. 
He  can  spin  his  biggest  yarns,  and  risk  his  salvation  never 
so  freely  —  it  is  all  waste  time  and  useless  endeavor  at 
Catalina.  The  merest  tyro  laughs  at  him  and  caps  his 
stories  with  others  so  outrageously  wonderful  that  belief 
at  first  seems  impossible.  Yet  on  being  challenged  by  even 
so  much  as  the  lifting  of  an  eyebrow,  the  challenger  is 


262 

squelched  utterly  by  having  a  photograph  of  the  catch,  with 
size,  weight,  and  time  occupied  in  landing,  size  of  rod  and 
thickness  of  line,  sworn  to  and  certified  by  witnesses  and  a 
notary.  Oh,  they  do  things  in  famous  style  at  Catalina,  and 
there  is  no  gainsaying  them.  For  instance,  Dr.  Holder 
deliberately  tells,  in  cold  blood,  of  catching  a  leaping  tuna, 
with  a  twenty-one  line  —  whatever  that  is  —  the  fish  being 
six  feet  four  inches  in  length  and  weighing  1 83  pounds,  and 
was  "the  embodiment  of  what  is  best  in  the  tribe  of  tuna, 
the  hardest  fighting  game  fish  known,  rich  in  reserve  and 
force,  prolific  in  expedient,  and  invested  with  an  inexhausti- 
ble supply  of  that  something  which,  translated,  means 
'  dying  game.'  "  And  the  record  of  the  Tuna  Club  for  1909 
shows  sixty-five  tuna  caught,  of  which  sixty-two  weighed 
over  100  pounds,  the  largest  being  153  pounds,  the  smallest 
sixty-eight  pounds,  and  the  average  totaling  118.2  pounds. 
The  record  tuna  ever  caught  was  that  of  Colonel  C.  P. 
Morehouse,  of  Pasadena,  in  the  season  of  1900,  and  it 
weighed  251  pounds.  The  following  year  a  lady,  Mrs.  E.  L. 
Dickerson,  of  New  York  City,  held  the  record  with  one  of 
216  pounds.  As  for  black  bass  the  records  are  as  follows: 
1898,  327  pounds;  1899,  372  pounds;  1900,  384  pounds; 
1901,  384  pounds;  1902,  419  pounds;  1903,  425  pounds; 
1905,  436  pounds;  and  yellowtail  have  been  caught  up  to 
forty-eight  pounds;  white  sea  bass,  sixty  pounds;  albacore, 
forty-one  and  three-quarters  pounds;  and  swordfish,  125 
pounds. 

The  Tuna  Club  was  organized  to  shame  out,  force  out, 
drive  out  —  anything  legitimate  to  get  rid  of  the  scoundrel 
—  the  game  hog,  the  killer  for  killing's  sake,  who  thought 
of  nothing  but  the  slaughter  he  could  accomplish.  It  was 


CHANNEL  ISLANDS  OF  CALIFORNIA         263 

organized  in  1878  by  Dr.  Holder.  Up  to  that  time  "boats 
left  Avalon  Bay  with  from  four  to  ten  heavy  hand-lines,  and 
tunas  and  yellowtail  and  sea  bass  were  slaughtered  by  the 
ton  and  thrown  away."  To  reform  and  prevent  this  state 
of  affairs  was  the  object  of  the  club;  to  give  the  fish  a 
fighting  chance;  to  elevate  the  standard  of  sport  on  the 
Pacific  Coast,  either  in  fresh  or  salt  water ;  to  protect  game 
fish  in  every  way;  and  to  set  an  example  of  the  highest 
possible  sportsmanship.  The  result  is  that,  today,  not  a 
boatman  of  Santa  Catalina  will  permit  a  hand-line  in  his 
boat,  and  any  unsportsmanlike  conduct  is  not  only  frowned 
upon  but  absolutely  forbidden.  To  encourage  the  boatmen' 
in  well  doing  prizes  are  given  to  them,  as  well  as  to  the 
sportsmen  who  engage  them. 

Every  year  tournaments  are  held  and  noted  anglers  from 
all  quarters  of  the  globe  come  to  them.  The  quality  of  the 
fish  caught  may  be  learned  from  a  glance  at  the  official  rec- 
ords—  and  the  following  unofficial  story.  The  Tuna  Club 
has  a  beautiful  and  commodious  clubhouse.  Its  porch  over- 
looks the  placid  Pacific,  the  home  of  the  fish  that  are  so 
eagerly  sought.  Seated  on  this  porch,  in  the  restful  con- 
tent that  comes  over  a  man  after  a  successful  day's  sport, 
followed  by  a  satisfactory  dinner,  anglers  are  apt  to  become 
reminiscent  and  tell  of  their  most  remarkable  achievements. 
At  one  of  the  tournaments  two  noted  New  Yorkers  were 
present,  as  guests  of  the  club.  They  were  "jolly  good  fel- 
lows," hence  were  quickly  initiated  into  the  good  fellowship 
section  of  the  club,  privately  named  the  Porch  Club.  One 
evening  one  of  the  members  began  to  "  reminisce  " ;  others 
followed,  the  fish  in  each  case  growing  larger,  until  the 
Easterner's  eyes  grew  like  poached  eggs,  so  that  one  might 


264  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

have  hung  his  hat  on  them.  At  last,  after  several  partic- 
ularly large  fish  had  been  landed  —  in  the  stones  —  one 
visitor  could  not  refrain  from  the  comment:  "But,  my 
dear  sir,  those  must  have  been  whales  you  were  catching." 
"Whales?"  responded  the  narrator,  "Whales?  Why,  we 
were  using  whales  for  bait ! " 

While  I  regret  it,  I  must  leave  the  subject  right  here. 
That  the  angler,  as  well  as  general  sightseers,  will  enjoy 
Santa  Catalina,  and  the  others  of  the  Channel  Islands,  I 
can  guarantee  —  at  least  as  positively  as  the  fisherman  can 
his  use  of  whale  as  bait.  While  Santa  Catalina  is  the  only 
island  popularly,  easily,  and  cheaply  accessible,  all  the  others 
may  be  visited  by  those  who  care  to  rough  it,  or  who  can 
charter  special  launches.  The  yachting  of  the  Channel  is 
excellent,  and  as  the  years  go  by  the  fame  of  the  region  as 
the  greatest  fishing  ground  in  the  world  for  the  sportsman 
will  increase. 

An  excellent  and  thoroughly  satisfactory  book,  beauti- 
fully illustrated,  upon  this  subject,  is  The  Channel  Islands, 
by  Charles  Frederick  Holder,  published  by  A.  C.  McClurg  & 
Co.,  Chicago,  and  details  of  trips  to  Santa  Catalina  may  be 
had  from  the  Pacific  Electric  Co.,  or  The  Banning  Co., 
Los  Angeles,  California. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
THE  NATURAL  BRIDGE  OF  VIRGINIA 

ONE  of  the  thrilling  remembrances  of  my  younger  life 
is  of  hearing  an  oration  by  John  B.  Gough,  the  great 
temperance  advocate,  who  told  a  story  of  a  young  man  who 
was  determined  to  carve  his  name  higher  than  that  of  any- 
one else  on  the  walls  of  the  Natural  Bridge  of  Virginia. 
How  my  heart  beat  faster  and  faster,  and  my  pulses 
throbbed  harder  and  harder  as  the  youth  cut  his  way  step 
by  step,  higher,  when  he  found  it  impossible  to  retrace  his 
steps  downwards.  He  must  climb  or  fall  and  be  dashed  to 
pieces  beneath.  As  he  came  nearer  to  the  top,  under  the 
spell  of  the  orator's  vivid  word  picture,  my  own  heart 
almost  ceased  to  beat  as  I  felt  the  strain  upon  fingers, 
hands,  wrists,  shoulders,  back,  indeed  the  whole  physical 
frame  and  its  internal  organs.  The  knife  blade  was  nearly 
worn  away,  the  climber's  strength  almost  gone.  He  could 
not,  must  not,  fail  now,  and  in  an  agony  of  suspense  and 
yet  of  wild  helpfulness  of  desire,  I  lifted  him  up  in  my  own 
spirit  to  the  place  of  safety,  which,  at  last,  thank  God !  the 
orator  described. 

From  that  day  to  this  the  Natural  Bridge  of  Virginia  has 
had  a  great  claim  upon  my  imagination.  And  I  am  free  to 
confess  that  when  I  saw  it  I  was  thrilled  and  delighted — • 
more,  perhaps,  with  the  memories  it  echoed  than  with  its 
own  inherent  majesty.  For  I  had  rambled,  in  the  mean- 

265 


266  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

time,  through  the  Yosemite  Valley,  over  the  High  Sierras, 
the  Rockies,  the  Alps,  the  Apennines,  the  Presidential 
Range;  I  had  explored  scores  of  miles  of  the  Grand  Canyon 
and  its  tributaries,  and  had  seen  the  great  bridges  of  Ari- 
zona and  the  Land  of  the  Standing  Rocks,  the  Monument 
Parks,  the  Towers  of  the  Rio  Virgen  and  a  score  and  one 
places  of  rare  majesty  and  sublimity  in  the  west.  True,  I 
had  not  yet  seen  the  stupendous  and  colossal  bridges  of 
Southern  Utah,  described  in  Chapter  xvm,  but  I  had  been 
so  saturated  with  the  majestic,  the  vast,  the  sublime,  the 
tremendous,  that,  in  comparison,  the  Natural  Bridge  of 
Virginia  was  but  a  small  feature  compared  with  those  with 
which  I  had  lived  off  and  on  for  a  couple  of  decades  or 
more. 

This  world-famed  bridge  overlooks  the  James  River 
Valley,  being  on  the  western  slope  of  the  Blue  Ridge  Moun- 
tains, and  near  the  center  of  the  state,  in  Rockbridge  Coun- 
ty, which  is  in  the  southern  part  of  the  well-known  Shenan- 
doah  Valley.  One  of  the  first  extensive  accounts  of  it  was 
Porte  Crayon's  Virginia  Illustrated,  which  appeared  in 
Harper's  Magazine  for  August,  1855.  In  this  he  gives  a 
description  of  the  bridge,  which  he  visited  with  his  cousins. 
They  had  driven  the  seventeen  or  eighteen  miles  from  Lex- 
ington and  were  at  the  Bridge  Hotel.  One  of  his  lady 
cousins  asked  to  be  taken  to  see  the  bridge.  Here  let  me 
have  him  tell  his  own  story : 

Porte  Crayon  sat  at  one  of  the  windows,  to  all  appearance 
oblivious  of  the  present.  .  .  .  Had  he  been  less  abstracted  and 
more  considerate,  he  must  have  observed  the  fluttering  restless 
demeanor  of  his  more  youthful  companions,  for  cold  indeed 
must  be  that  fancy,  and  impassive  that  soul,  that  can  approach 
this  far- famed  wonder  without  emotion. 


Courtesy  of  U.  S.  Geological  Survey 

THE  NATURAL  BRIDGE  OF  VIRGINIA 


NATURAL  BRIDGE  OF  FIRGINIA  267 

"  Cousin,  is  the  bridge  near  at  hand  ?  " 

Porte  started  up  apologizing  for  his  forget  fulness,  and  inti- 
mated to  the  ladies  that  if  they  would  walk  with  him  a  short 
distance  they  might  have  a  distant  glimpse  of  the  bridge  with- 
out delay.  Starting  from  the  tavern  door,  they  followed  the 
public  road  by  a  gentle  ascent  for  sixty  or  eighty  paces,  when 
they  came  to  a  gate.  Here  Crayon  entered,  and  taking  Minnie 
by  the  arm,  he  pushed  aside  the  branches  of  an  arbor  vitae, 
and  led  her  forward  several  paces  until  they  reached  a  sort  of 
rocky  barrier. 

"Look  down,  Cousin!" 

She  shrieked,  and  would  have  fallen  but  for  the  support  of 
her  companion,  who  hastily  withdrew  her  from  the  spot,  and 
seated  her,  all  pale  and  trembling,  under  the  shade  of  an  ever- 
green. 

"What's  the  matter?  What  is  it?"  inquired  the  others, 
with  alarmed  eagerness. 

"  Oh,  Porte,  how  could  you  do  it !  The  bridge !  The  bridge ! 
We're  on  the  bridge !  It  was  terrible ! " 

On  hearing  this  Fanny  and  Dora  looked  wildly  about,  as  if 
seeking  some  place  of  refuge,  and  finally  fled  through  the  gate 
by  which  they  had  entered,  and  only  halted  when  they  had 
gained  the  middle  of  the  highway. 

"  Come  back,  you  silly  creatures !  " 

"  No,  no,  not  for  the  world !    We  would  not  go  on  it  again." 

"  Don't  you  know  that  you  are  on  it  now  ?  " 

Dora  would  have  taken  to  her  heels  again,  but  Fanny  stopped 
her.  "  Don't  mind  Porte's  quizzing,"  said  she.  "  Don't  you 
see  that  we  are  in  the  public  road,  and  not  on  any  bridge?" 

Porte  succeeded  in  capturing  the  runaways,  and  holding  them 
securely  before  he  gave  the  information,  explained  to  them 
that  they  then  stood  over  the  center  of  the  arch,  and  yet  so  en- 
tirely hidden  was  the  chasm  which  it  spanned,  by  the  natural 
parapet  of  rocks  and  trees,  that  he  had  himself  seen  persons 
pass  over  without  being  aware  of  it.  Then,  by  dint  of  fair 
promises,  he  induced  his  captives  to  return  to  the  point  of  view. 

He  then  led  the  ladies,  one  at  a  time,  to  the  parapet,  where, 
on  their  hands  and  knees  they  ventured  to  look  over  the  brink 
into  that  awful  chasm,  which  few  have  nerve  sufficient  to  view 


268  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

from  an  upright  position.  Fanny  attempted  it,  holding  to  her 
brother's  arm,  but  found  she  could  endure  it  only  for  a  mo- 
ment, when  her  dizzy  brain  and  trembling  knees  warned  her  to 
desist.  Crayon  looked  long  and  earnestly  into  the  abyss, 
bounded  by  dark  impending  cliffs  of  jagged  limestone,  fes- 
tooned with  rich  wreaths  of  arbor  vitae,  the  most  beautiful  of 
all  the  tribe  of  evergreens. 

And  thus  have  hundreds  of  thousands  of  entranced  visi- 
tors felt,  when  they,  too,  gazed  upon  this  historic  bridge. 
Its  associations  alone  are  enough  to  make  it  interesting,  for 
King  George  in  granted  the  original  bridge  tract  to  Thomas 
Jefferson,  in  1774,  little  dreaming,  doubtless,  of  the  part 
the  great  statesman  was  to  play  in  the  future  revolution  of 
his  country.  After  Jefferson  became  president,  he  visited 
the  Bridge,  surveyed  it,  and  made  a  map  of  it  and  its  sur- 
roundings, with  his  own  hands.  The  next  year  he  returned, 
bringing  two  slaves,  Patrick  Henry  and  wife.  For  them 
he  built  a  log  cabin.  There  were  two  rooms  in  the  structure. 
He  directed  that  one  of  these  be  kept  open  for  the  entertain- 
ment of  strangers.  He  wrote  of  it  as  yet  to  be  "  a  famous 
place,  that  will  draw  the  attention  of  the  world." 

George  Washington,  when  a  surveyor  for  Lord  Fairfax, 
visited  it,  and  carved  his  name  upon  it,  where  it  may  still 
be  seen. 

During  the  Revolution,  the  French  organized  two  expedi- 
tions to  visit  it.  They  measured  it  and  made  diagrams  of 
it,  and  from  these  an  engraving  was  made  in  Paris,  which 
for  nearly  half  a  century  was  copied  both  in  Europe  and 
America. 

Many  of  the  most  noted  men  of  America  and  Europe 
have  visited  it.  and  Marshall  called  it  "  God's  greatest 
miracle  in  stone."  Henry  Clay  wrote  of  it  as  "the  bridge 


NATURAL  BRIDGE  OF  VIRGINIA  269 

not  made  with  hands,  that  spans  a  river,  carries  a  highway, 
and  makes  two  mountains  one." 

There  are  several  good  views  that  ought  to  be  obtained. 
One  has  already  been  referred  to:  that  of  the  chasm  from 
the  top  of  the  bridge  itself.  Then  from  the  level  of  Cedar 
Creek  the  whole  span  may  be  witnessed  without  any  of  the 
dizzying  sensation  that  many  people  feel  on  looking  down 
into  a  chasm.  Following  a  winding  road  that  descends  with 
rapidity  around  the  point  of  a  small  hill,  and  passing  through 
a  grove  of  trees,  one  reaches  a  point  above  Cedar  Creek  in 
the  heart  of  the  gorge.  It  is  a  wild  and  rugged  spot,  the 
creek  noisily  running  over  the  rocks  in  its  course,  the  nar- 
row passageway  rendering  the  shadows  blacker  and  the  noise 
more  intense.  Now  looking  back,  one  sees  the  bridge  in  all 
its  beauty.  Porte  Crayon's  description  is  a  good  one,  and 
well  worthy  of  preservation.  Here  it  is : 

Above,  with  its  outline  of  tree  and  rock  cutting  sharp  against 
the  blue  sky,  rose  the  eternal  arch,  so  massive,  yet  so  light, 
its  spring  uniting  its  tremendous  buttresses  high  in  mid-air, 
while  beneath  its  stern  shadow  the  eye  can  mark,  in  fair  per- 
spective, rocks,  trees,  hill-tops,  and  distant  sailing  clouds. 
There  are  few  objects  in  nature  which  so  entirely  fill  the  soul 
as  this  bridge  in  its  unique  and  simple  grandeur.  In  considera- 
tion of  the  perfection  of  its  adaptation  to  circumstances,  the 
simplicity  of  its  design,  the  sublimity  of  its  proportions,  the 
spectator  experiences  a  fullness  of  satisfaction  which  famil- 
iarity only  serves  to  increase ;  and  while  that  sentiment  of  awe 
inseparable  from  the  first  impression  may  be  weakened  or  dis- 
appear altogether,  wonder  and  admiration  grow  with  time. 

Continuing  the  descent  we  reach  the  banks  of  the  stream, 
and  pass  beneath  the  arch,  pausing  at  every  step  to  feast  the 
eyes  upon  the  varying  aspect  in  which  the  same  is  presented. 
Crossing  Cedar  Creek  under  the  bridge,  we  gain  a  point  above 
on  the  stream,  from  whence  the  view  is  equally  fine  with  that 


270  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

first  obtained  from  the  descending  path  on  the  opposite  side. 
This  picture  exhibits  the  turn  of  the  arch  to  greater  advantage. 
Then  the  flanking  row  of  embattled  cliffs,  their  sides  wreathed 
with  dark  foliage  and  their  bases  washed  by  the  stream,  form 
a  noble  addition  to  the  scene. 

The  average  height  of  these  cliffs  is  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  feet,  the  height  of  the  bridge  about  two  hundred  and 
twenty.  The  span  of  the  arch  is  ninety-three  feet,  its  average 
width  eighty,  and  its  thickness  in  the  center  fifty-five  feet.  It 
does  not  cross  the  chasm  precisely  at  right  angles,  but  in  oblique 
direction  like  what  engineers  call  a  skew  bridge.  While  the 
cliffs  are  perpendicular  and  in  some  places  overhanging,  the 
abutments  under  the  arch  approach  until  their  bases  are  not 
more  than  fifty  feet  apart.  At  ordinary  times  the  stream 
does  not  occupy  more  than  half  this  space,  although  from  its 
traces  and  water-marks  it  frequently  sweeps  through  in  an  un- 
broken volume,  extending  from  rock  to  rock.  The  top  of  the 
bridge  is  covered  with  a  clay  soil  to  the  depth  of  several  feet, 
which  nourishes  a  considerable  growth  of  trees,  generally  of 
the  evergreen  species.  These,  with  masses  of  rock,  serve  to 
form  natural  parapets  along  the  sides,  as  if  for  greater  se- 
curity, and  entirely  obscure  the  view  of  the  chasm  from  the 
passer.* 

A  fine  view,  which  sets  off  the  bridge  in  better  propor- 
tions than  the  closer  views,  is  to  be  obtained  from  a  hillside 
about  half  a  mile  below.  The  arch  here  seems  to  be  more 
perfect,  and  one  sees  its  relation  to  the  hill,  which,  a  short 
distance  to  the  right  of  its  apex,  is  cleft  to  its  base  by  the 
chasm  spanned  by  the  bridge. 

Travelers  crossing  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  or 
going  from  North  to  South,  or  vice  versa,  may  easily  visit 
the  Natural  Bridge.  It  has  its  own  station,  conjointly 
owned  by  the  Chesapeake  &  Ohio  and  Norfolk  &  Western 
Railways.  The  drive  of  three  miles  between  the  Bridge 

*Harper's  Magazine,  August,  1855,  p.  306. 


NATURAL  BRIDGE  OF  VIRGINIA  271 

and  the  station  is  over  a  well-kept  automobile  highway,  and 
Thomas  Jefferson's  one-room  of  the  log  house  has  given 
place  to  a  thoroughly  modern  and  well-equipped,  well- 
managed  hotel,  where  one  may  spend  a  day  or  a  month  in 
visiting  the  historic  scenes  in  the  immediate  vicinity. 


CHAPTER  XXX 
THE  MAMMOTH  CAVE  OF  KENTUCKY 

FOR  over  a  century  the  Mammoth  Cave  of  Kentucky 
has  been  regarded  as  one  of  the  natural  wonders  of 
the  world  that  bears  comparison  with  Niagara  Falls,  the 
Grand  Canyon,  and  the  Yosemite  Valley.  Were  it  all  open 
to  the  light  of  day,  and  free  from  the  mystery  of  its  under- 
ground condition  it  would  cease  to  be  as  marvelous  as  it 
is,  only  because  its  mysteries  and  wonders  were  lighted 
up  by  the  sun.  To  me  it  is  simply  a  portion  of  the  Grand 
Canyon  region  under  ground.  Almost  all  its  phenomena 
are  revealed  in  the  Grand  Canyon  region,  and  given 
time  enough,  it  is  not  inconceivable  that  the  Mammoth 
Cave  might  develop  into  a  Grand  Canyon  region  of  its 
own. 

The  geological  conditions  of  this  portion  of  Kentucky 
must  be  at  least  partially  understood  before  one  can  com- 
prehend the  methods  by  which  the  Mammoth  Cave  was 
formed.  And  it  should  here  be  noted  that  this  is  but  one 
of  over  five  hundred  known  caves  in  Edmonson  County 
alone. 

After  the  deposition  in  the  primeval  ocean  of  the  lime- 
stone rock  (in  which  these  caves  are  found)  and  its  cov- 
ering of  what  is  now  called  the  Chester  Sandstone,  the 
whole  area,  covering  over  eight  thousand  square  miles  was 
slowly  uplifted  by  the  contracting  forces  of  the  earth,  to 

272 


MAMMOTH  CAVE  OF  KENTUCKY  273 

above  the  surface  of  the  ocean.  The  uplift  was  fairly  even 
and  regular,  though  here  and  there  cracks  and  fissures 
doubtless  were  made,  and  as  the  surface  appeared  higher 
and  higher  a  certain  amount  of  erosion  took  place.  When 
the  uplift  ceased  and  the  reasonably  stable  equilibrium  of 
the  country  had  been  established  the  forces  that  made  the 
caverns  were  able  to  work  with  persistency  and  continuity. 
As  the  rain  fell  it  absorbed  some  of  the  gases  of  the  atmos- 
phere and  these  chemical  elements  cut  into  the  rocks,  ate 
them  away,  and  thus  gave  the  flowing  waters  the  sand,  in 
solution  or  suspension,  to  carry  away.  This  added  to  the 
carving  or  cutting  powers  of  the  streams  that  would  soon 
be  formed,  and,  where  crevices  had  been  formed  by  the 
cracking  of  the  strata  during  their  period  of  uplift,  the 
streams  found  a  ready  course  down  and  into  which  they 
eagerly  poured.  Hence  two  disintegrating  forces  were  let 
loose  upon  the  limestone  rock  in  which  the  caverns  are 
found :  the  dissolving  power  of  the  acids  in  the  water,  and 
the  erosive  or  cutting  powers  of  the  sand-charged  streams. 
Some  parts  of  the  limestone  were  less  resistant  than  others. 
These  were  soonest  eaten  away,  and  as  the  years,  the  cen- 
turies passed,  underground  passages  were  formed  into  which 
the  rain  and  flood  waters  poured  from  above,  thus  adding  to 
the  cavern-making  processes. 

These  streams  wound  around,  to  and  fro,  and  had  their 
network  of  communicating  channels  in  every  direction.  Of 
course,  they  burrowed  deeper  and  deeper,  and  thus  made 
underground  river  passage-ways  of  different  levels.  Hence 
we  find  today,  in  the  Mammoth  Cave,  five  different  levels, 
on  the  lowest  one  of  which  the  Echo  River  flows  in  silent, 
solemn  majesty  in  a  darkness  as  complete  as  was  the  world, 


274  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

before  "the  fiat  went  forth  from  heaven:     Let  there  be 
light!" 

The  results  of  this  underground  cutting  and  carving 
away  of  the  strata  was  ultimately  evident  in  the  caving-in 
of  the  surface.  This  made  the  surface  of  the  cave  region  a 
land  of  sink-holes,  of  hills  and  hollows,  of  depressions  into 
which  the  rain  and  melted  snow,  etc.,  emptied,  draining  the 
land  and  leaving  few  or  no  exterior  streams  or  rivers.  This 
is  the  actual  condition  of  Edmonson  County  today,  the  only 
stream  of  any  importance  being  Green  River,  which  flows 
pretty  deep  down  through  canyon  walls  of  its  own  carving. 

The  Mammoth  Cave  is  said  to  have  been  discovered  over 
a  century  ago,  by  a  hunter  named  Hutchings.  He  had 
wounded  a  bear,  and  in  following  it  to  its  lair,  the  vastness 
of  the  cave  was  revealed  to  him. 

Be  this  as  it  may  the  cave  region  had  gained  such  a  repu- 
tation as  early  as  1806  that  Dr.  Samuel  Brown,  of  Lexing- 
ton, made  a  horseback  journey  of  a  thousand  miles  in 
order  to  study  it  and  make  a  report  upon  it  to  the  American 
Philosophical  Society,  of  Philadelphia.  He  had  heard  that 
great  deposits  of  nitrate  of  potash  were  found  in  caves  of 
this  county.  This,  it  will  be  recalled,  is  one  of  the  chief 
ingredients  in  the  making  of  gunpowder.  He  found  the 
reports  correct  and  assured  the  learned  society  that  these 
deposits  would  be  of  the  utmost  value  to  this  country  in 
case  it  had  to  go  to  war  with  any  foreign  nation. 

In  1811  the  Mammoth  Cave  was  purchased  by  a  Mr. 
McLean,  together  with  two  hundred  acres  of  land  for  the 
munificent  sum  of  forty  dollars.  It  was  soon  sold,  how- 
ever, for  a  keen  patriot  (?)  secured  it  in  order  that  he  might 
supply  the  U.  S.  Government  with  the  nitrates  found  therein, 


MAMMOTH  CAVE  OF  KENTUCKY  275 

for  the  making  of  gunpowder  used  in  the  war  with  the 
British  in  1812.  He  made  a  fortune  by  his  patriotism. 

It  was  not  until  1839,  however,  that  the  Mammoth  Cave 
was  purchased  with  the  idea  of  making  it  a  scenic  resort. 
From  that  day  to  this  it  has  had  an  increasing  popularity. 

On  reaching  Glasgow  Junction,  a  station  on  the  main  line 
of  the  Louisville  &  Nashville  Railroad,  the  quaint-lookihg 
cars  and  engine  of  the  Mammoth  Cave  Railroad  soon  trans- 
port us  to  the  hotel,  some  ten  miles  away.  The  scenery  is 
rugged  and  picturesque,  rich  in  varied  verdure,  and  we  are 
prepared  before-hand  for  the  charm  of  setting  of  the  hotel 
and  the  entrance  to  the  Cave  before  we  arrive.  The  hotel 
itself  is  an  old-fashioned,  primitive  aggregation  of  build- 
ings, from  the  cottages  and  log-house  built  by  the  miners 
of  the  nitrates  in  early  days  to  a  modern  recently  built  log- 
house  annex,  equipped  with  porcelain  bath-tubs  and  other 
modern  appliances.  The  spirit  of  hospitality  pervades  the 
place,  and  with  this  we  find  ourselves  richly  content. 

The  very  evening  of  our  arrival,  after  supper,  a  party 
was  made  up  to  take  one  of  the  trips.  There  are  so  many 
ramifications  of  the  Cave  that  four  separate  trips  are  ar- 
ranged, varying  in  length  and  the  exertion  required,  to 
suit  the  many  needs  of  the  many  and  varied  .visitors.  I 
shall  not  attempt  here  any  elaborate  description  of  each 
trip,  but  endeavor  to  give  the  reader  a  clear  conception  of 
the  Cave  as  a  whole. 

The  first  impression,  as  one  descends  the  stone  steps  into 
the  great  arched  opening,  is  of  darkness  and  mystery.  But 
the  oil  lamps  we  carry  in  our  hands  are  a  remedy  for  the 
former,  and  the  latter  we  know  has  been  overcome  by  the 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  visitors,  that  have  rambled  through 


276  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

these  underground  passages  and  halls  during  the  past  cen- 
tury, so  we  pluck  up  courage  and  press  forward. 

Some  of  the  earliest  objects  of  interest  are  those  con- 
nected with  the  leaching  out  of  the  nitrates  —  or  salt-peter 
as  it  is  locally  called  —  found  in  the  earth  deposits.  There 
are  large  wooden  pipes,  —  trees  augured  out  —  telescoped 
together,  one  for  leading  the  water  in  from  the  outside,  the 
other  for  pumping  the  nitrate-charged  water  to  the  outside. 
There  are  also  several  leaching  vats,  into  which  the  earth 
was  thrown,  water  poured  over  it,  and  as  it  absorbed  the 
nitrates  it  flowed  into  a  reservoir  beneath  from  which 
it  was  pumped  to  the  outside,  there  to  have  the  water 
extracted,  and  to  be  shipped  for  the  making  of  gun- 
powder, to  the  peaceable  and  Quaker-dwelling  city  of 
Philadelphia. 

At  first  the  Cave  seems  to  consist  of  great  passageways, 
varying  considerably  in  width,  opening  into  vast  halls  or 
chambers,  so  high  and  wide  that  it  requires  the  burning  of 
magnesium  lights  to  penetrate  their  mysterious  shades.  In 
some  of  the  chambers  are  galleries,  proving  that  the  water 
that  carved  out  the  Cave  wore  away  one  level  before  it 
descended  to  the  next. 

As  far  as  the  large  chambers  are  concerned,  however,  the 
chief  interest  centers  in  those  which  are  today  in  the  active 
processes  of  creation.  Where  water  still  seeps  in  from  the 
surface,  charged  with  carbonic  acid  gas  found  in  the  atmos- 
phere, and  other  chemical  agents,  it  is  still  eating  its  way 
into  the  solid  limestone,  as  well  as  wearing  away  the  rock 
with  its  never-ceasing,  though  silent,  flow,  or  monotonous 
and  perpetual  drip.  Here,  sometimes,  the  passageway  upon 
which  one  is  traveling  leads  one  to  the  very  edge  of  a  deep, 


MAMMOTH  CAVE  OF  KENTUCKY  277 

black  and  forbidding  pit,  from  which  the  drip,  drip,  of 
water  can  be  heard.  Our  flickering  lamps  fail  to  reveal  the 
depths  of  the  pit,  nor,  when  our  guide  bids  us  look  up,  can 
we  see  the  crown  of  the  wonderful  dome  that  overhangs  it. 
Here  are  the  primitive  forces  of  world-sculpture  at  work. 
Secretly,  hidden,  in  the  perpetual  gloom  and  never-ceasing 
darkness  the  carving,  chiseling  and  beveling  go  on.  And 
strange  to  say,  though  there  seems  to  be  no  plan  as  to  what 
effect  shall  be  produced,  no  harmony  of  design  as  in  the 
works  of  man,  there  is  a  decided  harmoniousness  of  general 
effect  that  strikes  all  who  observe.  The  flowing  of  the 
water  down  the  walls  gives  us  groovings  and  carvings  as 
rare  and  unique  as  were  ever  conceived,  and  though  they 
suggest,  somewhat,  the  work  of  the  builders  of  the  Gothic 
cathedrals,  there  is  a  rude  originality  and  individuality 
about  it  all  that  differentiates  from  anything  that  man  has 
done. 

Some  of  these  domes  —  and  there  are  many  of  them  in 
the  Mammoth  Cave  —  are  stupendous  in  their  vast  extent, 
and  awesome  when  they  overarch  deep  black  pits  which  the 
eye  cannot  penetrate. 

Another  striking  feature  of  the  Mammoth  Cave  is  the 
great  number  of  stalactites  and  stalagmites  found.  These, 
as  it  is  well  known,  are  formed  by  the  slow  dripping  of  lime- 
charged  water,  which  solidifies  a  minute  particle  at  a  time 
as  it  passes  along.  Centuries  after  centuries  these  stony 
icicles  of  the  caves  grow  underground,  extending  their 
length  earthwards,  while,  if  the  flow  of  the  water  be  too 
great,  the  eternal  drip,  drip,  begins  to  build  up  a  mound 
from  the  floor  upwards.  And  this,  age  after  age,  the  one 
striving  upwards,  the  other  yearning  downwards,  like  man's 


278  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

passion  and  God's  blessing,  ultimately  meet,  and  stalactite 
and  stalagmite  become  one,  in  a  wonderful  formation  of 
solid  and  eternal  stone. 

There  are  many  of  these  limestone  growths  in  the  Mam- 
moth Cave,  of  peculiar  and  distinctive  forms.  Chief  among 
these  are  the  Bridal  Altar,  where  three  standing  pillars  sug- 
gest the  bride  and  groom  standing  before  the  minister  who 
is  to  declare  them  man  and  wife.  The  Arm  Chair  is  a 
peculiarly  shaped  formation,  the  rear  and  side  portions  of 
which  have  joined  —  stalactite  to  stalagmite  —  but  the  front 
part  of  which  was  arrested  before  the  joining  took  place. 
Sometimes  this  is  called  the  Jenny  Lind  chair,  for  here  the 
great  singer  sat  and  warbled  a  few  sweet  tones,  when  she 
visited  the  Cave  in  the  yesterday  of  her  fame.  Olive's 
Bower  contains  a  number  of  these  interesting  growths,  and 
Pompey  and  Caesar  suggest  by  their  rugged  strength  the 
physical  and  mental  powers  of  the  great  Roman  and  his 
foe,  while  the  Elephants'  Heads  are  as  massive  and  rough  as 
though  they  were  the  actual  heads  severed  from  their  bodies 
and  changed  into  perpetual  stone. 

If  one  were  to  follow  his  fancies  he  might  write  many 
pages  upon  the  quaint,  fantastic,  strange,  and  often  beauti- 
ful, forms  assumed  by  these  limestone  conceptions. 

But  of  far  greater  beauty,  though  less  frequently  found 
in  the  best  known  portions  of  the  Cave,  are  the  multitude 
of  gypsum  forms  that  appear  upon  the  walls  and  ceilings 
in  many  far-away  passages.  These  generally  assume  the 
shape  of  flowers,  either  complete  or  in  the  process  of  forma- 
tion. As  a  rule  they  are  creamy  white,  with  occasionally  a 
smoky  tinge  caused,  doubtless,  by  a  small  amount  of  man- 
ganese in  the  chemicals  held  in  solution  when  the  flowing 


MAMMOTH  CAVE  OF  KENTUCKY  279 

water  was  forming  them.  Take  any  one  of  these  Cave 
Flowers  and  examine  its  queer  petals  and  it  will  give  you 
a  good  idea  of  all  the  rest.  As  Dr.  Hovey  has  well  written : 

Each  rosette  is  made  up  of  countless  fibrous  crystals ;  each 
tiny  crystal  is  in  itself  a  study ;  each  fascicle  of  carved  prisms 
is  wonderful,  and  the  whole  glorious  blossom  is  a  miracle  of 
beauty.  Now  multiply  this  mimic  blossom  from  one  to  a 
myriad  as  you  move  down  the  dazzling  vista  as  if  in  a  dream 
of  Elysium,  not  for  a  few  yards,  but  for  two  magnificent  miles. 
All  is  virgin  white,  except  here  and  there  a  patch  of  gray  lime- 
stone, or  a  spot  bronzed  by  metallic  stain,  or  as  we  purposely 
vary  the  lovely  monotony  by  burning  chemical  lights  we  admire 
the  effective  grouping  done  by  Nature's  skilful  fingers.  Here 
is  a  great  cross  made  by  a  mass  of  stone  rosettes ;  while  floral 
coronets,  clusters,  wreaths,  and  garlands  embellish  nearly  every 
foot  of  the  ceiling  and  walls.  The  overgrown  ornaments 
actually  crowd  each  other  till  they  fall  on  the  floor  and  make 
the  pathway  sparkle  with  crushed  and  trodden  jewels.* 

Perhaps,  however,  to  most  people,  the  ride  on  the  river 
at  the  lowest  level  of  the  cave,  is  the  great  treat  of  all. 
During  ordinary  height  it  flows  silently,  serenely  and  calmly, 
but  when  the  rainy  and  flood  seasons  come  it  rises  and  be- 
comes a  rapid,  roaring,  mighty  torrent.  Great  boats,  capable 
of  taking  thirty  or  more  passengers  in  security,  are  chained 
to  the  walls,  and  from  an  extemporized  landing  we  take 
our  places,  the  chain  is  released,  and  propelling  us  by  push- 
ing with  his  "torch  throw-stick,"  the  guide  steers  us  along 
through  the  mysterious  and  winding  waterway.  Then  he 
asks  for  silence,  and  in  a  quiet,  soft  tone,  sings  the  notes 
of  the  common  chord  for  two  octaves.  The  results  are 
startling.  Instead  of  an  ordinary  echo,  the  notes  are  all 

*  The  Mammoth  Care  of  Kentucky,  by  H.  C.  Hovey.  John  P. 
Morton  &  Co.,  Louisville,  Ky. 


280  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

blended  together  in  a  rich,  sweet,  mellow  harmony  that 
reverberates  for  several  minutes.  The  firing  of  a  revolver 
sounds  like  a  thousand  siege  guns  following  one  another; 
the  splashing  of  the  paddle  upon  the  water,  or  striking  the 
side  of  the  boat  give  forth  startling  and  long-continuing 
sounds. 

In  this  river,  and  in  the  pools  that  each  rise  leaves  in  the 
sands,  are  to  be  found  the  strange  eyeless  crawfish,  and  the 
blind  fish  which  sometimes  reach  the  size  of  five  inches  long, 
known  to  the  scientists  as  Amblyopsis  Spcloeus,  meaning 
"  a  weak-eyed  cave  dweller."  There  are  other  strange  crea- 
tures such  as  crickets,  beetles,  flies,  fleas,  spiders,  and,  of 
course,  thousands  of  bats,  which  latter  come  hither  to  hi- 
bernate during  the  winter  months. 

In  spite  of  these  fascinating  features  of  the  Cave,  there 
was  one  other  phase  that  interested  me  more  than  the  others. 
That  was:  How  much  of  this  vast  underground  world  is 
yet  unexplored?  From  conversation  held  with  the  guides 
and  others,  and  a  study  of  the  literature  of  the  Cave  I  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  here  was  still  field  for  one  who  desired 
to  gaze  upon  scenes  that  as  yet  the  eye  of  man  had  never 
fallen  upon.  Consequently  I  arranged  for  the  privilege  of 
taking  a  special  guide  and  going  with  him  wherever  he 
was  willing  to  take  me.  His  name  was  Ishmael  Schuyler 
Hunt  and  he  had  had  fifteen  years'  experience.  After  see- 
ing the  ordinary  sights  we  entered  a  level  into  which  not  one 
in  a  thousand  of  the  Cave  visitors  are  ever  taken.  After 
going  as  far  as  he  and  one  of  the  other  guides  had  ever 
gone,  he  proposed  that  we  continue  on  and  explore.  This 
was  what  I  desired,  so  we  climbed  down  a  sloping  kind  of 
rude  shaft  to  a  lower  level,  and  then  over,  under,  and 


MAMMOTH  CAVE  OF  KENTUCKY  281 

around  rocks,  up  and  down,  for  a  mile  or  so,  passing  places 
where  literally  millions  of  tons  of  floral-like  gypsum  de- 
posits were  to  be  found  on  ceilings  and  walls,  or  fallen  to 
the  cave  floor,  there  to  be  trampled  under  foot  whenever 
the  exploring  man  came  along. 

After  passing  through  a  very  narrow  place  we  came  to 
where  the  upper  and  lower  walls  were  not  more  than  three 
feet  apart.  To  pass  between  these  meant  crawling,  hardly 
on  hands  and  knees,  but  on  our  bellies.  Hunt  was  ahead. 
The  passage  opened  out.  We  had  easy  walking  for  awhile, 
then  it  closed  up  again.  Going  first,  Hunt  proceeded  care- 
fully until  the  merest  glimmer  from  his  lamp  reached  me, 
when  he  called  and  said  he  had  reached  the  edge  of  a  pit, 
the  bottom  of  which  he  could  not  see,  but  that  he  thought  he 
could  "coon"  around  it,  on  a  narrow  shelf  which  extended 
as  far  as  he  could  see  around  the  left  side.  Telling  him  to 
go  on  carefully,  I  followed.  When  I  reached  the  pit,  he 
was  safe  on  the  other  side,  and  I  imitated  the  "coon"  in 
hanging  on  by  my  teeth  and  toe-nails  to  the  sloping  and 
sand-covered  shelf,  with  the  ticklish  sensation  ever  present 
that  did  anything  give  wray  I  should  slip,  slide,  fall  into  that 
black  profound  which  had  a  very  real  personality  on  my 
right  hand.  Beyond  this  pit  we  came  to  a  rather  expansive 
grotto,  where  millions  of  brownish  calcareous  deposits  of  a 
peculiar  marble,  flower  and  cauliflower-like  form,  depended 
from  the  ceiling,  and  a  striking  mass  of  conjoined  stalactites 
and  stalagmites  stood  forth  boldly  as  the  striking  feature  of 
the  opening.  There  were  also  many  of  the  flower-like  gyp- 
sum deposits,  so,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  guide,  I  called  this 
the  Pasadena  Floral  Grotto,  in  honor  of  my  home  city  in 
California.  Some  day  I  hope  to  send  a  tablet  that  will  re- 


282  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

main  forever  as  a  reminder  of  the  first  recorded  trip  made 
to  this  far-away  hidden  spot  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth. 

It  should  be  noted  that  while  the  guide  was  perfectly  sure 
we  were  in  unexplored  territory,  we  had  not  gone  far  before 
we  came  upon  the  footprints  of  a  man  who  had  been  there 
ahead  of  us.  In  this  quiet  and  windless  space,  where  no 
rain  falls,  or  winds  blow,  nor  rivers  rise,  such  footprints 
would  remain  for  centuries.  Whose  were  these?  No  one 
knows!  Possibly  of  some  adventurous  guide  long  since 
dead,  for  Hunt  assures  me  that  no  one  living  today  has 
any  knowledge  of  anyone  ever  having  been  into  this  portion 
of  the  Cave. 

Hence  even  to  the  explorer  the  Mammoth  Cave  has  a 
message,  and  to  the  curious,  the  student  of  Nature,  the 
patriotic  American  who  desires  to  see  and  know  his  own 
land  it  calls  with  peculiar  force  and  power,  as  one  of  the 
Greatest  Natural  Wonders  of  the  World. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
INCOMPARABLE  NIAGARA 

WHO  that  has  seen  Niagara  once  can  ever  forget  it? 
What  other  scene  of  waterfall,  canyon,  forest, 
mountain,  glacier,  city,  ocean,  or  desert  can  obliterate  it? 
With  Charles  Dickens  we  are  compelled  to  cry :  "Niagara 
was  at  once  stamped  upon  my  heart,  an  image  of  beauty; 
to  remain  there,  changeless  and  indelible,  until  its  pulses 
ceased  to  beat,  forever." 

Is  there  any  wonder  that  when  Father  Hennepin  —  the 
first  white  man  to  write  a  description  of  it  —  saw  it  in  1678 
in  company  with  the  unfortunate  and  adventurous  LaSalle, 
he  thus  expressed  himself : 

Here  is  a  vast  and  prodigious  Cadence  of  Water  which  falls 
down  after  a  surprising  and  astonishing  manner,  insomuch 
that  the  Universe  does  not  afford  its  Parallel.  The  Falls  seem 
to  me  to  be  above  six  hundred  feet  high,  and  the  Waters,  which 
fall  from  this  horrible  Precipice,  do  foam  and  boyl  after  the 
most  hideous  manner  imaginable,  making  an  outrageous  Noise, 
more  terrible  than  that  of  Thunder,  for  when  Wind  blows  out 
of  the  South,  their  dismal  roaring  may  be  heard  more  than 
Fifteen  Leagues  off.* 

And  it  is  all  very  well  to  laugh  at  this  exuberant  descrip- 
tion and  ridicule  its  exaggerations.  Were  we  to  come  upon 
Niagara,  unprepared,  as  did  Father  Hennepin,  and  all  its 

*  A  New  Disco-very  of  a  Vast  Country  in  America,  by  Louis  Henne- 
pin, 1698. 

283 


284  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

awful  majesty,  and  vast  sublimity  were  dashed  in  our  faces, 
as  it  were,  without  a  moment's  mental  preparation,  I  ques- 
tion whether  the  most  careful,  or  most  blase  would  be  able 
to  write  any  description  more  vivid,  or,  in  the  main,  more 
truthful. 

It  is  really  astonishing  how  the  thought  of  Niagara  has 
taken  hold  of  the  imagination  of  people  of  diverse  mental 
and  emotional  characteristics.  For  instance,  on  one  of  my 
returns  to  my  native  town  in  England,  one  gentleman,  a 
grocer  by  trade,  fairly  hurled  the  question  at  me  the  moment 
I  saw  him:  "Have  you  seen  Nye-a-hag-a-ra ? "  for  that 
was  the  way  he  pronounced  it.  And  when  I  replied  in  the 
affirmative,  he  cared  to  hear  nothing  of  where  I  had  been,  or 
what  else  I  had  seen  until  I  had  filled  him  full,  and  satisfied 
all  his  questionings  about  the  great  cataract.  I  mention  this 
merely  as  one  of  a  score  of  similar  experiences. 

Tyndall,  the  calm,  serene  scientist,  was  a  devoted  admirer 
of  Niagara.  He  said :  "  Fine  and  close  acquaintanceship, 
the  gradual  interweaving  of  mind  and  nature,  must  power- 
fully influence  any  final  estimate  of  the  scene."  And  this  is 
true.  One's  first  impressions  of  Niagara  are  absorbing  for 
the  time  being,  but  they  grow  and  change  materially  as  one 
gains  closer  acquaintance  with  it.  Nor  can  one  get  in  one 
view  a  full  conception  of  what  Niagara  is.  I  have  visited 
it  again  and  again,  in  the  course  of  thirty  years,  yet,  as  I 
wander  around  from  place  to  place,  I  get  new  views,  new 
effects,  new  impressions  at  every  visit. 

The  first  point  from  which  the  visitor  generally  sees 
Niagara  on  the  American  side  is  Prospect  Point.  Here  at 
an  elevation  slightly  above  the  Falls  one's  view  to  the  left 
is  of  the  river,  rushing  madly  towards  the  verge  of  the 


THE  AMERICAN  FALL 


THE  HORSESHOE  FALL 


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0 

c 


INCOMPARABLE  NIAGARA  285 

precipice,  where  it  makes  its  wonderful  leap,  roaring  and 
thunder-voiced  into  the  abyss  beneath.  From  Prospect  Park 
one  may  descend  by  the  Inclined  Railway  to  the  foot  of  the 
Falls,  where  most  startling  and  amazing  effects  are  to  be 
witnessed.  One  will  need  an  umbrella  and  waterproof  coat. 
It  is  from  Goat  Island,  however,  that  the  real  conception 
of  Niagara  is  obtained.  In  walking  over  the  bridges,  and 
in  glimpses  through  the  rich  growth  of  trees  that  crowns 
the  island,  one  realizes,  as  nowhere  else,  the  marvelous  rush 
of  the  upper  rapids.  By  many  these  are  regarded  as  the 
supreme  object  of  attention.  The  Duke  of  Argyle  wrote  of 
them  : 

When  we  stand  at  any  point  near  the  edge  of  the  Falls,  and 
look  up  the  course  of  the  stream,  the  foaming  waters  of  the 
rapids  constitute  the  sky  line.  No  indication  of  land  is  visible 
—  nothing  to  express  the  fact  that  we  are  looking  at  a  river. 
The  crests  of  the  breakers,  the  leaping  and  the  rushing  of  the 
waters,  are  seen  against  the  clouds  as  they  are  seen  in  the 
ocean,  when  the  ship  from  which  we  look  is  in  the  trough  of 
the  sea.  It  is  impossible  to  resist  the  effect  of  the  imagination. 
It  is  as  if  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  were  being  broken 
up,  and  that  a  new  deluge  were  coming  on  the  world.  The 
impression  is  rather  increased  than  diminished  by  the  perspec- 
tive of  the  low  wooded  banks  on  either  shore,  running  down  to 
a  vanishing  point  and  seeming  to  be  lost  in  the  advancing 
waters.  An  apparently  shoreless  sea  tumbling  toward  one  is  a 
very  grand  and  a  very  awful  sight.  Forgetting,  then,  what  one 
knows,  and  giving  oneself  to  what  one  only  sees,  I  do  not  know 
that  there  is  anything  in  Nature  more  majestic  than  the  view 
of  the  rapids  above  the  falls  of  Niagara.* 

All  agree  that  the  surpassing  views  of  the  Falls  are  to 
be  had  from  the  Canadian  side.  It  was  on  Table  Rock; 

*  Geology  and  Paleontology  of  Niagara  Falls  and  Vicinity,  by  A.  W. 
Grabau.     N.  Y.  State  Educat.  Dept,  Albany,  1901. 


286  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

near  the  edge  of  Horse  Shoe  Falls,  that  Dickens  got  his  im- 
pressions.   Again,  to  quote  him: 

It  was  not  until  I  came  upon  Table  Rock,  and  looked  — 
great  heaven,  on  what  a  fall  of  bright-green  water!  —  that  it 
came  upon  me  in  its  full  might  and  majesty.  Then,  when  I 
felt  how  near  to  my  Creator  I  was  standing,  the  first  effect,  and 
the  enduring  one  —  instant  and  lasting  —  of  the  tremendous 
spectacle,  was  peace.  Peace  of  mind,  tranquility,  calm  recol- 
lections of  the  dead,  great  thoughts  of  eternal  rest  and  happi- 
ness :  nothing  of  gloom  or  terror.  .  .  . 

Oh,  how  the  strife  and  trouble  of  daily  life  receded  from 
my  view,  and  lessened  in  the  distance,  during  the  ten  memor- 
able days  we  passed  on  that  enchanted  ground !  What  voices 
spoke  from  out  the  thundering  water ;  what  faces,  faded  from 
the  earth,  looked  out  upon  me  from  its  gleaming  depths ;  what 
heavenly  promise  glistened  in  those  angel's  tears,  the  drops  of 
many  hues,  that  showered  around,  and  twined  themselves  about 
the  gorgeous  arches  which  the  changing  rainbows  made.* 

Contrary  to  his  general  custom  Dickens,  in  the  above 
quotation,  fails  to  explain  why  that  blessed  sense  of  peace 
possessed  him  as  he  gazed  upon  the  overflowing  water.  John 
Muir,  it  seems  to  me,  fully  answers,  or  explains,  this  in  one 
of  his  keenly  analytical  comments  on  the  Fall  of  Tueeulala, 
in  the  Hetch  Hetchy  Valley.  He  says : 

Lowlanders  are  apt  to  suppose  that  mountain  streams  in  their 
wild  career  over  cliffs  lose  control  of  themselves  and  tumble 
in  a  noisy  chaos  of  mist  and  spray.  On  the  contrary,  on  no 
part  of  their  travels  are  they  more  harmonious  and  self- 
controlled.f 

That  this  is  true  I  have  observed  again  and  again,  and 
have  called  the  attention  of  thoughtful  travelers  to  the  fact, 

*  American  Notes. 

t  The  Yosemite,  by  John  Muir,  pp.  250-1,  The  Century  Co.,  New 
York. 


INCOMPARABLE  NIAGARA  287 

yet  few,  if  any,  had  ever  noticed  it  before.  The  personality 
of  falls  is  as  wonderfully  varied  as  is  that  of  individuals,  and 
there  are  types,  too,  of  falls,  as  there  are  of  faces  and  char- 
acters. For  instance,  the  water  falling  over  the  Niagara 
cliffs,  in  the  smooth  volume  it  possesses,  is  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent-appearing element  from  the  water  that  makes  Bridal 
Veil  Falls,  or  Mooney  Falls,  described  in  another  chapter, 
or  of  any  of  the  falls  in  the  Yosemite  or  Yellowstone.  This 
is  too  large  a  subject  to  discuss  here,  but  it  will  prove  in- 
teresting to  the  intelligent  observer  to  be  on  the  lookout,  in 
future,  to  see  if  the  statement  be  not  an  accurate  one. 

Table  Rock  has  changed,  somewhat,  since  Dickens'  day. 
In  1850  a  huge  portion  of  it  fell  off  into  the  gorge,  but 
enough  is  still  left  to  give  one  incomparable  and  awe-inspir- 
ing views,  though  he  is  liable  to  be  drenched  with  spray 
at  any  turn  of  the  wind. 

One  of  the  effects  that  most  people  notice  is  the  vivid 
green  of  the  water  of  these  Falls.  Tyndall  thus  comments 
upon  it : 

While  the  water  of  the  falls  as  a  whole  bends  solidly  over 
and  falls  in  a  continuous  layer  .  .  .  close  to  the  ledge  over 
which  the  water  rolls,  foam  is  generated,  the  light  falling  upon 
which,  and  flashing  back  from  it,  is  sifted  in  its  passage  to  and 
fro,  and  changed  from  white  to  emerald  green.* 

There  are  two  things  every  Niagara  visitor  should  not 
fail  to  do.  These  are  to  take  the  ride  on  The  Maid  of  the 
Mist  to  the  foot  of  the  Falls,  and  then  take  the  Belt  Line 
ride  down  the  river  to  see  Whirlpool  Rapids.  This  latter 
ride  may  be  taken  beginning  at  either  the  Canadian  or  Amer- 
ican side,  and  affords  one  reasonably  good  views  of  all  the 

*  Fragments  of  Science,  by  John  Tyndall.    D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  2  vols. 


288  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

most  interesting  spots.  Yet,  if  one  would  really  study  the 
Falls,  the  rapids,  and  their  geological  surroundings,  he  must 
leisurely  walk  rather  than  ride. 

The  Maid  of  the  Mist  ride  is  perfectly  safe,  having  been 
enjoyed  by  many  thousands  of  people  without  accident. 
The  little  steamer  rides,  tossing  like  a  cork,  almost  to  the 
foot  of  the  Falls,  and  thus  brings  one  near  to  the  vast  sheets 
of  marvelously  friction-embroidered  tapestry  of  the  falling 
water,  made  iridescent  in  the  sun's  rays.  Especially  in 
winter  time  are  some  wonderfully  fine  effects  observable. 

On  the  Belt  ride,  after  passing  Clifton,  on  the  Canadian 
side,  one  begins  to  have  fine  views  of  the  Whirlpool  Rapids, 
and  can  realize  something  of  their  wild  and  threatening 
character.  In  1861,  with  three  men  on  board,  the  Maid  of 
the  Mist  successfully  navigated  these  rapids  and  the  Whirl- 
pool below,  in  the  presence  of  a  vast  throng  of  highly  in- 
terested spectators.  But  the  feat  was  never  again  attempted. 
And  it  was  through  this  same  stretch  of  demoniac  water 
that  Captain  Webb,  the  hardy  and  daring  swimmer,  at- 
tempted to  swim,  paying  for  the  foolhardy  venture  with  his 
life.  The  Whirlpool  is  at  the  end  of  the  Rapids,  and  our 
views  are  many  and  varied,  until  the  Whirlpool  Station  of 
the  electric  road  is  reached.  Here,  from  a  little  shelter  built 
on  an  extreme  point,  one  obtains  excellent  views  of  the 
gorge,  including  the  Whirlpool,  and  the  Rapids  above  and 
below.  This  great  swollen  elbow  is  certainly  the  most  thrill- 
ing portion  of  the  entire  gorge.  The  whole  body  of  the 
river  rushes  into  the  pool  from  the  southeast  with  great 
velocity.  Held  within  narrow  confining  walls,  which  have 
beer  rendered  circular  by  the  water's  own  cutting  power,  the 
current  becomes  fierce  through  restraint.  Leaping  and 


INCOMPARABLE  NIAGARA  289 

tearing  at  the  circular  wall,  it  madly  rages  and  yet  rushes 
on,  impelled  and  propelled  by  the  inrushing  force  of  the 
ever  oncoming  river.  It  circles  completely  around,  finally 
escaping  by  passing  under  the  incoming  torrent,  through  the 
comparatively  narrow  outlet,  in  a  northeasterly  direction. 
It  is  estimated  that  the  water  here  is  not  less  than  150  to 
200  feet  deep,  but  both  the  outlet  and  inlet  are  shallow,  and 
are  formed  of  a  very  hard  quartzose  bed  of  what  is  known 
as  the  Medina  formation.  Whether  one  is  interested  in 
geology  or  not  he  should  not  fail  to  notice  the  succession 
of  the  rock  strata  finely  exposed  here  on  the  New  York  side 
of  the  river. 

A  little  below  the  Whirlpool,  Niagara  Glen  is  reached. 
Few  visit  it,  yet  I  have  found  it  one  of  the  most  attractive 
spots  along  the  gorge.  To  quote  A.  W.  Grabau  again : 

It  marks  the  site  of  a  former  fall,  and,  besides  its  interest  on 
that  account  deserves  to  be  visited  for  its  sylvan  beauty  and  its 
wild  and  picturesque  scenery  of  frowning  cliffs,  huge  moss- 
covered  boulders  and  dark  cool  dells,  where  rare  flowers  and 
ferns  are  among  the  attractions  which  delight  the  naturalist. 
Many  good  views  of  the  river  and  the  opposite  banks  may  here 
be  obtained,  and  the  student  of  geology  will  find  no  end  to  in- 
structive features  eloquent  of  the  time  when  the  falling  waters 
were  dashed  into  spray  on  the  boulders  among  which  he  now 
wanders.* 

There  are  also  excellent  views  at  Queenston  Heights  and 
very  comprehensive  ones  from  the  summit  of  Brock's 
Monument. 

On  the  return  journey,  on  the  New  York  side,  the  cars 
run  close  to  the  rushing  waters  of  the  river,  thus  making  the 
trip  of  unusual  interest.  The  history  of  the  various  places 
*  Geology  and  Paleontology  of  Niagara  Falls  and  Vicinity. 


290  OUR  AMERICAN  WONDERLANDS 

at  which  the  regular  stops  are  made  is  full  of  interest,  as, 
for  instance,  at  the  Bloody  Run  Ravine,  where,  in  1763,  the 
Seneca  Indians  drove  a  band  of  English  soldiers,  with  their 
wagons  and  horses,  over  the  cliff,  and  they  were  dashed  to. 
pieces  upon  the  rocks  below. 

But  by  far  the  most  attractive  place  at  which  to  stop  is  the 
Whirlpool  Rapids.  The  water  which  here  rushes  through  a 
narrow  and  comparatively  shallow  channel,  makes  a  descent  of 
nearly  fifty  feet  in  the  space  of  less  than  a  mile,  and  its  turbu- 
lence and  magnificence  are  indescribable.  Seen  at  night  by 
moonlight,  or  when  illuminated  by  the  light  from  a  strong  re- 
flector, the  spectacle  is  beyond  portrayal.* 

To  the  visitor,  whether  he  be  widely  traveled  or  not, 
Niagara  makes  a  definite,  direct,  and  distinctive  appeal.  No 
one  can  be  disappointed  in  it,  if  he  merely  stops  long  enough 
and  takes  the  trouble  to  see  it  from  every  reasonable  view- 
point, while  to  the  student  of  geology  it  affords  problems 
of  extreme  interest  to  the  borders  of  fascination,  upon  which 
some  of  the  greatest  scientists  of  this  and  past  ages  have 
expended  their  mental  energy. 

*  Geology  and  Paleontology  of  Niagara  Falls  and  Vicinity. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Acoma,  24,  95,  199;  by  the  En- 
chanted Mesa  to,  101-114 

Acowitz  Canyon,  cliff  dwellings,  61 

Adventures  in  Zuni,  My,  141 

Agua  Fria  Crater,  138 

Alamo,  200 

American  Archeology,  School  of, 
21,  71 

American  Highways  and  Byways 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  190 

Apache  trail  to  Roosevelt  Dam, 
over  the,  150-157 

Argyle,  Duke  of,  and  Niagara,  285 

Arizona,  deserts,  lure  of  the,  172- 
181 ;  Franciscan  missions  of, 
New  Mexico,  and  Texas,  196- 
202;  Grand  Canyon  of,  l-io 

Arizona  Sketches,  147 

Augusta  Bridge,  Utah,  185 

Bandelier,  Adolf,  and  the  Delight 

Makers,  25,  67 
Beadle,  J.  H.,  and  Canyon  de  Chel- 

ly,  85,  86 
Beaver  Creek,  Verde  region  ruins, 

3i 

Beaver  Falls,  Havasu,  165 
Betatakin,  20,  38;  to,  and  Kitsiel, 

38-59 
Big    Basin,    California    Redwood 

Park,  243 

Big  trees  of  California,  241-248 
Blackfoot  Glacier,  218 
Blue-water,  or   Cataract   Canyon, 

3.6 

Bridal  Veil  Falls,  Cataract  Can- 
yon, 164 
Bridge,  Natural,  of  Virginia,  265- 

271 
Bridges,   Colossal,  of  Utah,    182- 

189 
Brown,    Samuel,    and    Mammoth 

Cave,  273 

Calaveras  grove  of  big  trees,  242, 
246,  247 


California  State   Redwood   Park, 

243,  245 

California  the  Wonderful,  236,  247 
Canyon,  Grand  of  Arizona,  i-io 
Canyon  de  Chelly,  del  Muerto,  and 

Monument,  and  their  ruins,  76- 

86 

Canyon  Diablo,  145 
Canyon  of  Cataracts,  and  the  Ha- 

vasupai  Indians,  158-166 
Carleton,   General,   explores   Can- 
yon de  Chelly,  83,  91 
Caroline  Bridge,  Utah,  184 
Casa  Grande,  cliff-dwellings,  25-27 
Cascade  Range,  227 
Cataract  Canyon,  36,   158 
Cave,    Mammoth,    of    Kentucky, 

272,  282 

Chaco  Canyon,  cliff-dwellings,  21 
Chalcedony   Park,    Petrified   For- 
est, 168 
Channel  Islands  of  California,  259- 

264 

Chapin,  F.  H.,  and  the  cliff-dwell- 
ings, 61-63 

Chelly,  Canyon  de,  20,  22,  41,  76-86 
Chittenden,   General    H.    M.,   and 

the  Yellowstone,  205 
"Cibola,  Seven  Cities  of"  (Zuni), 

over  the  Lava  Fields  to  the,  136- 

144 
"City  of  the  Sky"  (Acoma),  101- 

114 
Cliff-  and  Cave-Dwellings  of  the 

Southwest,  the  Prehistoric,  20 

37 
Cliff-Dwellers  country,  boundaries 

of,  20 
Cliff -Dwellers,  The  Land  of  the, 

61,  63 
Cliff-Dwellings  of  the  Mesa  Verde, 

60-66 
Cliff -Dwellings  of  the  Mesa  Verde, 

The,  62 
Cliff  Palace,  61,  62 


293 


294 


INDEX 


Colorado,  ruins  of  the  Little,  20, 

36 

Colorado  Springs,  190 
Colossal  Natural  Bridges  of  Utah, 

182-189 
Concepcion,  la,  Purissima  de  Acu- 

na,  mission,  201 

Conquistadores,  74,  104,  136,  197 
Continental  divide,  205 
Corn  dance,  99 
Cowlitz  Glacier,  224 
Crater  Lake,  Oregon,  227-233 
Crayon,  Porte,  and  the  great  Nat- 
ural Bridge,  3,  266-270 
Crookes,  William,   and   Meteorite 

Mountain,  148 

Crucifixion  of  Penitentes,  12 
Cummings,  Byron,  and  the  Utah 

Natural  Bridges,  38,  182,  185 
Cushing,  F.  H.,.and  Zuni,  25,  141, 

158 

Delight  Makers,  The,  67 
Delight  Makers,  Old  Santa  Fe,  and 

the  land  of  the,  67-75 
Dellenbaugh,  F.  S.,  and  the  Grand 

Canyon,  9 
Delmas,  D.  M.,  and  the  big  trees, 

244 

Del  Muerto  Canyon,  76-86 
Desert,  the  lure  of  the   Arizona, 

172-181;     color,    vastness,     and 

calm,  172-176 
Diablo  Canyon,  145 
Dickens,   Charles,     and    Niagara, 

283,  286 

Doniphan's  Expedition,  43,  77,  90 
Dutton,  Clarence  E.,  and  the 

Grand  Canyon,  6 

Echo  River,  Mammoth  Cave,  273 
El  Capitan,  Yosemite,  2,  236,  237 
Ellen  Wilson  Lake,  Glacier  Park, 

219 

El  Tovar,  Grand  Canyon,  7,  8,  166 
Enchanted  Mesa,  by  the,  to  the 

"City  of  the  Sky,"  101-114 

Fewkes,  J.  W.,  and  the  cliff-dwell- 
ings, 25,  27,  29,  36,  38;  and  the 
Hopi  snake  dance,   124-126 
Fiesta  de  los  Muertos,  la,  97 
Fire  Dance  of  the  Navahos,  87-94 
Firehole  Geyser  Basin,  204 


Fishing  at  Santa  Catalina  Island, 

262 
Flagellantes,    Old   Taos   and   the, 

11-19 

Flagstaff,  ruins  near,  20,  35 
Flute  of  the  Gods,  The,  100 
Fossil  Forests  of  Arizona,  167-171 
Franciscan  Missions,  old,  of  New 

Mexico,    Arizona,    and    Texas, 

196-202 

Fremont  group  of  big  trees,  242 
Fresno  grove  of  big  trees,  242 

Garden  of  the  Gods,  and  Monu- 
ment Park,  190-195 

Garland,  Hamlin,  and  the  Hopi 
snake  dance,  129-135 

Geyser  Basin,  204 

Geysers  of  the  Yellowstone,  205- 
210 

Gila  Valley  cliff-dwellings,  20,  25 

Gilbert,  G.  K.,  and  Meteorite 
Mountain,  147 

Glacier  National  Park,  214-220 

Glaciers  of  the  National  Park, 
223 

Grabau,  A.  W.,  and  Niagara  Falls, 
285,  289,  290 

Grand   Canyon  of  Arizona,   i-io, 

159 

Grand  Canyon  of  the  Yellowstone, 
2,  205-213 

Grand  County,  Utah,  and  the  Nat- 
ural Bridges,  188 

Havasupai  Indians,  Canyon  of  Cat- 
aracts and  the,  158-166 
Hayden's    Geological    Survey,   60, 

204 
Hodge,  F.  W.,  and  the  Enchanted 

Mesa,  25,  104 
Holder,    C.   F.,   and   the    Channel 

Islands,  259 

Hopi  Cliff  Ruins,  20,  25,  36 
Hopiland,  24,  25,  76,  95 
Hopi  Snake  Dance,  115-13$ 
Hornaday,  W.  T.,  and  glaciers  of 

National    Park,   218,   219 
Hovey,  H.  C.,  and  gypsum  flowers 

of  Mammoth  Cave,  279 
Hughes,    J.    T.,    and    Canyon    de 

Chelly,  43,  77 

Indians  of  the  Painted  Desert 
Region,  The,  123 


INDEX 


295 


Indians  of  the  Terraced  Houses, 

19,  100 

Inscription  Rock,  140 
"Island  of   Summer,  The,"  Cata- 

lina  Island,  259 
Isleta,  New  Mexico,  95,  96 

Jackson,     Mt,     Glacier    National 

Park,  214 
Jenney,  C.  E.,  and  the  big  trees, 

241 
Johnson,  Clifton,  and  the  Garden 

of  the  Gods,  190 

Kachina  Bridge,  Utah,  184 
Katzimo,    the    Enchanted    Mesa, 

102 

Kayenta,   in    Hopiland,    39-45 
Kearny,  General  S.  W.,  and  Nava- 

jo  land,  14,  22,  77,  89 
Kentucky,  Mammoth  Cave  of,  272- 

282 

Khiva,  A  Ride  to,  38 
Kitsiel,  cliff-dwellings,  20,  38-59 

Laguna,  important  pueblo,  98,  101, 
136 

Lake,  McDermott,  214 ;  Ellen  Wil- 
son, 219;  Gunsight,  219;  Mc- 
Donald, 216;  Mirror,  238;  Ta- 
hoe,  249-258;  Two  Medicine,  217 

Land  of  the  Cliff -Dwellers,  The, 
61 

Land  of  Poco  Tiempo,  The,  12, 
zoo,  157 

Land  of  the  Standing  Rocks,  The, 
190 

Land  of  Sunshine,  34 

Langford,  N.  P.,  and  Yellowstone 
geysers,  209,  210 

La  Plata  Range,  50 

Lava  Fields,  over  the,  to  the 
"Seven  Cities  of  Cibola,"  136- 
144 

Le  Conte,  John,  and  Lake  Tahoe, 
258 

Le  Conte,  Joseph,  and  Crater 
Lake,  228 

Libbey,  W.,  and  Katzimo,  103 

Lithodendron  Valley,  Petrified 
Forest,  168 

Little  Bridge,  Utah,  185 

Little  Colorado  River  ruins,  20,  36 

Long,  Horace  J..  and  the  Natural 
Bridges  of  Utah,  183,  184 


Lummis,  C.  F.,  and  the  Penitentes, 
12;  and  the  Enchanted  Mesa, 
102,  104;  and  the  Apache  War, 
157 

Lure  of  the  Arizona  Deserts,  172- 
181 

Mammoth  Cave  of  Kentucky,  272- 
282 

Mancos,  Mancos  Canyon,  and  cliff- 
d^vellings,  41,  61 

Mariposa  grove  of  big  trees,  238, 
242 

Markham,  Edwin,  and  the  Yosem- 
ite,  236,  237;  and  the  big  trees, 
247 

Matthews,  Washington,  and  the 
Navajos,  25,  137 

McCully,  A.  W.,  and  Rainier  Na- 
tional Park,  224-226 

McDermott  Lake,  214 

McElmo,  cliff-dwellings,  41 

Merced  grove  of  big  trees,  246 

Mesa  Verde,  Cliff-dwellings,  of 
the,  21,  41,  60-66 

Meteorite  Mountain  and  Sunset 
Crater,  145-149 

Miller,  Joaquin,  and  the  desert, 
177 

Mindeleffs,  the,  and  Indian  re- 
mains, 25,  26,  29,  83 

Montezuma  Castle,  Well,  and 
Creek,  cliff-dwellings,  31,  41 

Monument  Canyon  and  its  ruins, 
76-86 

Monument  Park,  The  Garden  of 
the  Gods  and,  190-195 

Mossbrse  Falls,  Sacramento  River, 
162 

Mountain  Chant  of  the  Navajos, 
92 

Mountain  that  was  God,  The,  226 

Muertos,  la  Fiesta  de  Los,  97 

Muir,  John,  and  the  Grand  Can- 
yon, i;  and  the  Petrified  For- 
est, 168;  and  the  Yosemite  Val- 
ley, 234;  Muir  Woods  of  big 
trees,  245 

Munk,  J.  A.,  and  Meteorite  Moun- 
tain, 146 

Natural  Bridge  of  Virginia,  3,  265- 

271 
Natural  Bridges  of  Utah,  41,  182- 

189 


296 


INDEX 


Navajo,  legend,  137;  Mountain, 
186;  National  Monument,  20, 

38 

Navajos,  22,  25,  28,  40,  53,  76,  83, 
87;  and  their  remarkable  fire 
dance,  87-94 

New  Mexico,  old  Franciscan  mis- 
sions of,  196-202 

Niagara,  283-290 

Nisqually  Glacier,  221-223;  River, 
222 

Nonnezoshie  Bridge,  Utah,  186 

Nordenskiold,  Gustav,  and  the 
Cliff-Palace,  62 

Old  Franciscan  Missions  of  New 
Mexico,  Arizona,  and  Texas, 
196-202 

Old  Taos  and  the  Flagellantes,  II- 

19 

Oskison,  J.  W.,  and  cliff-dwellings, 

38,  46 
Owachomo  Bridge,  185 

Painted  Desert,  over  the,  to  the 
Hopi  snake  dance,  115-135 

Pajarito  Plateau,  cliff-dwellings, 
and  Delight  Makers,  20,  67 

Paradise  Valley,  Rainier  National 
Park,  224 

Pattie,  J.  O.,  and  Santa  Fe  region, 
22 

Penitente  Brothers,  12-19 

Petrified  Forest  of  Arizona,  167- 
171 

Pike's  Peak,  190 

Pikyabo  Bridge,  Utah,  189 

Porte  Crayon,  and  Natural  Bridge 
of  Virginia,  3,  266-270 

Powell,  J.  W.,  and  the  Grand  Can- 
yon, 7;  and  the  cliff-dwellings, 
23,  25 

Pueblo  Rebellion  of  1680,  II,  74, 
112,  199 

Pueblos,  23,  24 

Rain  ceremony  and  the  snake 
dance,  135 

Rainier  National  Park,  214,  221- 
226 

Red  Rock  country  ruins,  20 

Rio  Grande,  pueblos,  23;  terraced 
houses  of  the,  95-100 

Rito  de  los  Frijoles,  cliff-dwell- 
ings, 69-71 


Roof   of    the    continent,   on   the, 

Montana,  214-220 
Roosevelt  Dam,  150-157 
Ryan,    Marah   Ellis,   and    Indians 

and  their  pueblos,  100 

Salt  River  cliff-dwellings,  20,  25, 
151 

San  Antonio  de  Bexar,  mission, 
301 ;  de  Valero,  old  mission,  200 ; 
Fernando,  201 ;  Fernando  de 
Taos,  n ;  Francisco  de  la  Es- 
pada,  201 ;  Gabriel,  199 ;  Ilde- 
fonso,  74,  100;  Jacinto,  200;  de 
Tumacacori,  202;  Juan,  100; 
Xavier  del  Bac,  201 

San  Estaban's  day  at  Acoma,  109 

San  Francisco  Mountains,  cliff- 
dwellings,  20,  35 

San  Juan  River,  cliff-dwellings,  21 

San  Mateo  Mountain,  lava  flow 
and  legend,  137,  138 

Santa  Catalina  Island,  260 

Santa  Fe,  21,  73,  199 

Saunders,  C.  F.,  and  the  Rio 
Grande,  19 

Sempervirens,  big  trees,  241-248 

Sequoias,    big   trees,    241-248 

"Seven  Cities  of  Cibola,"  136-144 

Shipapu  Bridge,  Utah,  185 

Sia,  The,  100 

Simpson,  J.  H.,  and  Canyon  de 
Chelly,  78-83 ;  Report  of  an  Ex- 
pedition into  the  Navaho  Coun- 
try, 78-83 

Smith,  Katharine  Louise,  and  Two 
Medicine  Lake,  217 

Snake  ceremonies  at  Walpi,   115- 

135 

Sperry  Glacier,  218 

St.  Michaels,  mission,  41 

Sunset  Peak,  crater,  149 

Tahoe,   Lake,  249-258 

Tahoma,  "the  mountain  that  was 
God,"  221 

Taos,  II,  69,  95;  and  the  Flagel- 
lantes, 11-19 

Terraced  houses  of  the  Rio 
Grande,  95-100 

Texas,  old  Franciscan  missions  of, 
196-202 

Thompson,  David,  and  the  Yellow- 
stone, 203 


INDEX 


297 


Topocobya  trail,  Cataract  Canyon, 

159 
Trees,  the  big,  of  California,  241- 

248 

Truckee  River,  Lake  Tahoe,  251 
Tsotsil,   Mt.,   sacred  to   Navahos, 

137 

Tumacacori,  San  Jose  de,  mission, 

202 

Tuna  Club,  262 

Tuolumne  grove  of  big  trees,  246 
Tusayan,  Hopiland,  20,  24,  25 
Twain,    Mark,   and    Lake   Tahoe, 

256 

Two  Medicine  Lake,  217 
Tyndall,  John,  and  Niagara,  287 
Tyuonyi,   cliff-dwelling,  69 

Undeveloped  West,  The,  or  Five 
Years  in  the  Territories,  86 

Utah,  Colossal  Bridges  of,  182- 
189 

Utah,  the  Great  Natural  Bridges 
of,  189 


Verde,  Camp,  cliff-dwellings,  29, 
31 ;  River,  and  Valley  ruins,  20, 

28-37 
Verde,  Mesa,  the  Cliff-Dwellings 

of  the,  60-66 
Virginia,  Natural  Bridge  of,  265- 

271 

Wallapai  trail  into  Cataract  Can~ 

yon,  159 

Washington,  Mt,  227 
Water  Tank  Bridge,  Utah,  189 
Wetherills  and  Colville,  38,  39,  41, 

52,  6l 
Whirlpool   Rapids,   Niagara,   287, 

288 

Yellowstone  Grand  Canyon,  2 
Yellowstone  Park,  203-213 
Yosemite  Valley,  2,  234-240 

Zuni,  21,  25,  36,  95,  136-144,  158, 
199;  trail  to  Cataract  Canyon, 
159 


Date  Due 


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